The Big C

Usually, I avoid any books or shows about cancer. Its amazinly difficult how just seeing an actor laying in a bed with a fake IV filled with water immediately makes you nauseous and takes you back to the days when the chemo silently crept from the IV into your body and almost killed you before the cancer got its chance.

But we got showtime for free for 6 months and so I caught myself watching The Big C without even knowing what it was. The show is about a 40 something mom who is dying of cancer and tries not to tell anyone and just live out her last days with a zest for life that shocks, horrifies and pleases different people for different reasons. What I love about the show is that in one 30 minute episode there is such a constant flow of tears that its impossible to tell which are tears of joy and which are tears of sadness.

Trying to learn more about the show after the finaly episode of the first season, I came across a scathing review. And so of course, the fan of the show and cancer survivor in me, had to write a scathing letter back. Since I spent so much time writing it, I decided it should could as my blog entry for the day.

And here is my response, if you want to read the article, the link is at the bottom.

Dear John,

I recently came across your article when trying to learn more about the show, “The Big C.”

I am going to be so bold as to suggest you've never had cancer. Or even that no one close to has ever battled cancer.

Because there is no way someone who truly understands the experience could ever review the show in such an apathetic and ignorant manner.

At the beginning of the article you ask, “What narrative device can keep this from becoming a painful and clichéd cancer journey?” There is no such thing as a clichéd cancer journey. It’s an insult to anyone who has ever been diagnosed with the disease to claim that there could be anything passé about such a personal experience.

You claim that as Linney’s disease progresses and becomes more public, then there will be less opportunity for humor. As someone who has had cancer, I can ease your concerns because within each awful moment, there is always an opportunity to laugh.

Right after I was diagnosed with cancer, at 19, my body shut down, as though it finally acknowledged the cancer that had been growing inside quietly for over a year. After 12 hours of constant vomiting, temporary blindness, headaches and chills, I was admitted to the hospital and immediately started on a rigorous chemotherapy regimen. The combination of the drugs and the disease fighting in my body made me sleep for days.

Upon awakening and seeing my sister at the side of my bed, I looked at her and asked, "Is that my outfit?" And it was. My sister sat by my bedside in a cancer hospital praying for me to wake up while wearing in an outfit that she borrowed without asking. When our thoughts should have been consumed with horror over what I had just been through and fear over what the next few months might bring, we laughed because through it all we were still sisters who were trying our best to live in the moment.

You blast the show because of its "inability to commit to any one tone, to always waver between irony and sincerity, between the underlying trauma and horror of her impending death and the need to laugh above it all." The inability to commit is what defines the cancer experience.

We laugh because it's one of the many choices people with cancer, or really anyone who ever faces a life-altering or life-threatening situation, are forced to make. To fight for your life or to die peacefully. To tell everyone or to brave it alone. To cry constantly or laugh inappropriately.

If more people like you could open themselves up to the ambiguity of the cancer experience, there would be a much greater appreciation for what the writers of the show have accomplished and a much greater awareness of the endless opportunities there are for more humor, regardless of how the disease progresses.

At the end of your article you wrote, "Because as Cathy begins dying, how can The Big C remain a comedy?" I hate to break it to you, John, but we are all dying. And as life gets harder and as death becomes more imminent, there actual lies even more opportunity for humor. Because that’s when people need it most.

I feel like you owe the show an apology. Or at the very least a disclaimer at the beginning of the article stating that, at the very least, you are not qualified to review the show. Either you didn’t watch it, or while watching it, you weren’t open to learning about the cancer experience. Because any one who understands the cancer experience would be unequivocally impressed by what the show has accomplished and would be waiting anxiously to for the next season to begin

Your article isn't just insulting to the fans of the show but also to anyone who has ever experienced cancer. And unfortunately, you insulted me twice.

Jennifer

Mountain View, Ca

http://www.theatlantic.com/culture/archive/2010/11/the-big-c-how-long-can-we-laugh-at-cancer/66568/