Don’t get me wrong. I’m not “for” breast cancer.I’m just home from a 10-city tour starting in Columbus, OH and ending in Washington, D.C.
In New York City, we stayed two days, and both mornings I ran in Central Park, from my Times Square hotel. I found myself caught up in a huge throng of thousands of people.
Given the fact that most of the marchers wore pink, it took me only seconds to recognize them as people unwittingly caught up, emotionally, in one of the most successful and most insidious marketing campaigns in history: the Pink Ribbon Cult. You’re offended already, aren’t you? Do the pink ribbons everywhere make warm fuzzies wash over you? They represent our hope that the drug companies will “cure” breast cancer.
The industry of cancer has every element of genius, and regardless of my recoil from their agenda, I have to admire the marketing prowess. Like a cult, they have created a created a tight-knit community around a common false dogma. The Pink Ribbon campaign, on Sunday Oct. 21, got thousands of dollars out of the pockets of New Yorkers. By my estimate 90 percent of them people of color, many of them very poor and working class. Those thousands of dollars now line the obscenely fat pockets of the Big Pharma machine.
The false dogma is that breast cancer is an ungodly thing we have no power over, and that only huge companies who produce drugs can give us a “cure” and hope that tomorrow 1 in 3 women won’t get the cancer.
The next day, as Kristin and I ran towards Central Park again on 7th Avenue, she pointed out the Pink Ribbon mammogram vans driving into the city. That’s where the big lie begins. Let’s start there on our own breast-cancer awareness (metaphorical) walk.
As radiography became more sophisticated, tiny clusters of aberrant cells could be detected.
Keep in mind that in Europe, studies show that women who do NOTHING about their cancer do better than women who have chemo and radiation. One of the biggest lies told by the cancer industry, in recent years, is that our rates of breast cancer survival have increased. In fact, we are simply finding women who have Stage 0 or Stage 1 cancer (which likely would not make them ill for 20 years or more!). We then subject them to cutting off their breasts, or burning gamma rays that continue to burn and burn and burn, causing high likelihood of secondary cancers. We may put them through chemotherapy that puts heavy metals and deadly toxins throughout body systems for life.I wrote last summer about Anne, a tennis opponent I had who, in her early 40’s, discovered a Stage 0 breast cancer and was scheduled for mastectomy the following week. I saw one of her teammates three months later who told me that Anne still wasn’t able to stand up straight, and was struggling mightily.
The treatment is in direct violation of Hippocrates’ Oath: “First, Do No Harm.”
These are thoughts scrambling my brain as I run past the Pink Ribbon marchers. I find my run fueled by anger, rather than energy. I’m angry that elaborate marketing campaigns start with sending mammography vans into the inner cities to find the poor black women, in the name of saving their lives. (Medicaid and Medicare pay for mammography—but not nutrition counseling or any other prevention.)And then that same campaign puts them through gruesome treatment for even tiny clusters of cancer cells. Poor women are among the most unsuspecting, and the most compliant, cancer patients.Black women have the highest rates of cancer. They are being used, chewed up, and spit out by the cancer industry.
The drug companies send their paddy wagons into the inner cities because, from a marketing standpoint, it’s “shooting fish in a barrel.” You make billions on mammography, and with those tests, you feed billions more dollars into chemo and radiation treatments. After that, you create a giant market for more drugs to manage the horrible effects of nausea, “chemo brain,” diarrhea, neuropathy, and dozens of other common effects of the cancer treatments, many of them long-term.Last but not least, victims are highly likely to have secondary cancers within five years of administering chemo. Those, too, will require billions more in chemo and radiation, surgeries and hospitalization. Cancer treatment currently is completely unsustainable, with the average patient’s care costing hundreds of thousands, and many are $1 million or more. When the patient is dead, you can sell their relatives pink sweatshirts and car stickers at marches and rallies to fund more of the same. Plus the relatives are more likely to opt into the starting point of this campaign: mammography (or the PSA test for men), etc.
If you think I’m a crazy nutcase, go search how many books written by PhD’s, MD’s, and industry insiders are written on the politics of the pink ribbon campaign, on Amazon! Like I said, from a marketing standpoint, I have to stand back in awe and admiration. From the standpoint of a human being who hates to see suffering, I’m horrified. Astonished that America takes it sitting down.
If doctors are nice to us, we think they are good docs. Just because they are paternally compassionate, and answer our questions, doesn’t mean the treatment they offer is justified and evidence based. They have a virtually one-size-fits-all solution to All Problems Cancer. It’s called Standard of Care. It involves never stepping outside the dictates of managed care.
You will be offered chemicals, heavy metals, and burning rays. You will get lots of tests, and lots of nice doctors and nurses. You will NOT get any counseling about how a Nobel Prize winner discovered that sugar fuels cancer, and that cancer cannot live in an oxygenated environment. You’ll never hear about how the food you choose, and other inexpensive modalities that cannot be patented, can be part or all of the solution. (If your doc or nurse offered you this, they would likely be terminated. At at minimum, they would be mocked by their peers.)
You will never hear about 400 different plant-based herbs, or oils, or supplements, have been CLEARLY documented to kill cancer cells or in a variety of ways help the body non-toxically eliminate cancer.
Friday, how to interview your oncologist.