9/11

It's after 8pm as I write, and this sad day is almost over. The 9/11 coverage all week has been pretty much unavoidable, and I've been torn between just not wanting to think about it and not being able to look away from all the videos and photos and tributes.

Lots of connections between 9/11 and cancer -- too many, starting with the cancer that has been showing up in responders (and for which they are not getting the help they should be getting, which is shameful).

I have mixed feelings, too, about comparing a personal tragedy to a national tragedy, but like I said, there are too many connections already. Betsy de Parry, Lymphoma Rock Star, wrote a column this morning for AnnArbor.com called "Cancer: 9/11 Every Two Days," in which she recounts how she spent September 11, 2002 -- ina  hospital, getting RadioImmunoTherapy for her NHL, which had already turned its nose up at two courses of chemotherapy. Betsy points out, in arguing for more cancer research funding, that about 1500 people die from cancer every day, which equals the same number of deaths as 9/11 every two days. We need to do more.

I was recently trying to write about the experience of getting a cancer diagnosis, and the whole idea of "knowing exactly where you were when you heard" came to me. It's kind of generational: for some, it was hearing that Kennedy was shot. Then, hearing the the shuttle had exploded. Then, hearing about the Towers. But whatever the case, getting the cancer diagnosis is similar: you remember exactly where you were, and the sense of tragedy and loss is about the same, if not worse, because it feels like a whole nation's sense of loss is compressed in your own single lonely gut.

It's unfortunate that tragedies make our minds go to more tragedies, but I guess that's just the way this day has to be. Not that it was a bad day, or a hard day. Just one of those days you want to be done with.

My wife has been struggling with the day, too, all week, looking at the same images we've all been looking at. She finally came to a kind of realization about her feelings today, and she wrote on Facebook this afternoon: "My hope this day for all those who lost loved ones 10 years ago is that they may remember and cherish the memories they have of their loved ones' lives, rather than their deaths, that they may relive those good times over and over again rather than relive the horrible tragedy that was only one small part of these people's lives--and not what they should be remembered for."

Which is a nice reminder about any tragedy -- national or personal: we need to not dwell on the one bad moment, but about happier yesterdays, and brighter tomorrows.

Which I realize is kind of cheesy. But I can't end the day without some kind of hope.