Claudia Schmidt
The quote above is by Dr. Habib Sadeghi in the latest Gwyneth Paltrow Goop newsletter which I subscribed to a while ago and still haven’t cancelled (although after this one, I may just have to).
I take such umbrage at this quote.
It bothers me deeply because it insinuates that those of us who have experienced cancer are somehow responsible for bringing it on ourselves because of unresolved emotional pain or unexpressed desires.
I have spent many years of my life in active pursuit of self expression and continually work on advancing my self-expression and self-awareness, and for this man to put this notion out there into the universe is so simplistic and irresponsible.
Ok, in full transparency, let me just share that at this specific moment I’m sitting in the LAX airport, the air conditioning system in my terminal is broken and it’s about 95 degrees in here (can you spell hot flash), so granted, I’m in a particularly pissed off frame of mind and sweating like crazy…. but…. even on a good day, this quote would infuriate me.
I’m all for wholistic health, I’m pretty much the queen of wholistic health. I believe in a mind/body connection, I believe that you need to be aware of what you put in your body, as well as how you react to outside stress while aiming to maintain calm and peace in your mind and body. But, sometimes your body just takes it’s own course and you’re there for the ride. Which is what happened to me in 2010.
So I don’t need Gywneth Paltrow or Dr. Sadeghi to tell me that I got breast cancer because I wasn’t fully expressing myself or some such nonsense. My family will tell you I express the heck out of myself. In fact, they have often let me know that perhaps I express myself a little too much for their liking….
It drives me crazy when I read articles on how you can cure yourself of cancer by eating massive amounts of broccoli (I have eaten tons of broccoli over the course of my life), or avoiding anger, or willing yourself to health, or meditating, or somehow “positive thinking” the cancer out of your body in some miraculous airy-fairy kind of way. ‘Cause that’s not really how it works.
You go along with your life eating well, getting a decent amount of rest (or as much as you can when you’re a working mom with 2 kids), exercising a bit here and there, taking care of your family and life in general and then one day your body takes a slight detour, goes a little haywire and you have cancer.
And it turns out that the best medical experts around advise you that your best option is to pump a lot of extremely toxic drugs into your body, and have a series of body-mutilating surgeries to remove the cancer from your body (or at least the visible cancer). And then you still aren’t even 100% sure that it’s not going to come back.
So, please Gwyneth and Dr. Sadeghi, don’t go telling me that it’s my fault, and that if I were more able to express my desires or had dealt with my inner emotional pain that I wouldn’t have had breast cancer. I’m sorry but that’s just insulting.
Phew, that felt good. A pox on those two.
Now let me get back to watching tonight’s episode of the final season of “Sons of Anarchy.” God, do I want this last season to be over. Please, Kurt Sutter, just end the madness. Jax and his merry band of bikers have gone off their rockers and have spiraled out of control.
Did I mention that I was trying to reduce the stress in my life? Then why in the world am I watching this insanely violent TV show about mayhem and madness among the Southern California biker community?!