15 years — remembering, rambling, & asking: Does ageism exist in Cancer Land too?

I’m marking time again. 2023 marks 15 years since my mother died from metastatic breast cancer. She died on March 6, 2008. This 15-year milestone got me thinking about a lot of things. So, yes, this one’s a bit of a ramble.

It’s hard to believe it’s been 15 years since I heard my mother’s voice. 15 years.

15 years is a decent chunk of time. A lot has happened in the 15 years since my mother died. As is the case with your family, there’s been a lot going on in mine.

There have been births, deaths, funerals, weddings, graduations, relocations, career changes, vacations, goodbyes to beloved pets, welcomes to new ones, and of course, my breast cancer diagnosis, and the death of my dad — just to name a few.

My mother has missed a lot of stuff. 15 years of family stuff. 15 years of living.

Sure, it’s entirely possible, maybe even likely, that by now she would’ve died from some other cause. But, maybe not.

Sometimes, when an older person dies from cancer, or anything, the loss isn’t considered quite as bad as when the person dying is young.

Do we as a society consider it less of a loss when the death is that of an older person?

Do doctors and others in healthcare treat older cancer patients differently than younger cancer patients? (I’m not saying my mother was or was not; I’m just posing the question.)

And, I’m not necessarily talking about treatment courses, though there is that component here, too. Are elderly patients looked at, talked to, respected as much, given the time, listened to — just seen and heard — at the same level of engagement and concern as their younger counterparts?

Does ageism exist in Cancer Land?

(Perhaps ageism isn’t even the right word in this context, but it’s the one that comes to mind.)

What is ageism?

On the World Health Organization’s website it’s stated to mean the following:

Ageism refers to the stereotypes (how we think), prejudice (how we feel) and discrimination (how we act) towards others or oneself based on age.

Most often, we think of ageism pertaining only to older people. But it affects everyone. After all, stereotypes exist about every age category.

For the purposes of this post, the focus is on older people.

So, again, does ageism exist in Cancer Land?

Perhaps this question is something we could all at least consider and mull over. I don’t have the answers. I’m just asking the questions.

One thing that’s always bothered me during my 12+ years of advocacy is the divisions — the walls — that exist in Cancer Land. I wrote about those walls here. And here.

One of those walls, in my view, is ageism.

I know we like to surround ourselves with folks who are like us. All you have to do is think about the state of politics today. Enough said, right?

And yes, every age has different needs and goals that require different resources to address them. So, I get the wanting to have all the various groups and organizations — even Facebook groups — that cater to different ages and categories of cancer patients.

But, is it possible we’ve gone too far with all that?

Focusing on and devoting attention to people and things that are like us, lessens what we can potentially get done for all of us, does it not?

I do know this: every death from metastatic cancer of any kind is a horrible loss. Yes, deaths at young ages are especially brutal and heartbreaking.

But where’s the line (okay, age) when cancer deaths become “less than”?

Is there one?

Again, I’m just asking.

Since 2008, roughly 600,000 more deaths from metastatic breast cancer have occurred. (And that’s a low estimate.) 600,000 more families are missing loved ones. Every single one of those deaths matters. Every single one. Regardless of age.

As I remember and ramble today, I also think about the progress we’ve made in Breast Cancer Land, but also the progress we haven’t made — the number of deaths from metastatic breast cancer isn’t going down.

In 2022, it was projected that 43,250 women and men would die from MBC in the US. Source: breastcancer.org. When I started blogging, that annual number was lower. Yes, lower.

You might want to read: Metastatic Breast Cancer: Let’s Talk About It.

My advocacy in Cancer Land always circles back to my mother’s breast cancer diagnosis and death from MBC. In some ways, my advocacy is, and always has been, more about her than me — more about advocating for those dealing with MBC.

That’s why I continue to remember, to mark time, here on the blog every March. It gives me a chance to remember publicly, yes, but also it’s another opportunity to advocate by putting faces to the numbers.

Because we cannot forget. We must do better.

All of us — together — working for the benefit of all who are impacted by metastatic disease should always be the number one goal. Regardless of gender, age, initial diagnosis, race, socio-economic status, zip code, or any other factor.

All for one and one for all.

Trite but true — or it could be true — if we choose to make it so. Perhaps one way to start is to dismantle some of those walls. And, one of those walls might be ageism.

Thank you for reading this year’s remembrance ramble and helping me mark time.

If you like this post, thank you for sharing it!

Do you think ageism exists in Cancer Land too?

What other “walls” do you see in Cancer Land or in healthcare in general? (if any)

Who do you mark time for?

Thank you for sharing this post!