On Low Profiles, Cancer, And Prayers For A Quick and Happy Death

 A few blog readers have commented from time to time in confusion that the profile name of the author at PF doesn't match the actual writer (me). To set the record straight, I use a nom de plume (Paul) as a feeble attempt at anonymity, though most of my public articles and talks/interviews link to my blog. Still, I try to keep identifying features to a minimum to at least give me an assurance of the freedom to write what I choose to while trying to keep any ego and other promotions from getting in the way. 

This is why I appreciate Fr. Ripperger; he keeps a lot profile, in the sense of the talks and conferences he gives are not about him as a personality, but to try to teach and edify others with the message of whatever topic he is covering. I have to say, I do take everything he says with a grain of salt and not as gospel. I try to keep in mind Paul's words in 1 Thes 5:12 to "test everything, hold fast what is good." Sometimes, it can feel like he's so smart and at another level that you just agree because you don't understand and just assume in good faith he knows what he's talking about (which, I'm sure, he does). As an exorcist, he is, I'm sure, very cognizant of the dangers of pride and any sin that can be used against him by demons in his ministry. I don't even know how one would find him; I have to assume he deliberately keeps a low profile, which I respect. 

Back to the moniker I use for my blog, though. This came by way of inspiration after years ago stumbling upon a blog called Confessions of a College Professor written by a "Professor Doom." He seemed like a critical individual (most of his criticism leveled at the institutions of higher education where he worked) and a secular humanist more or less, but was dishing out straight talk on insider baseball in what happens to be my field as well. So I would find myself nodding and saying "yes" a lot, and appreciated his insights, even if they were cynical. 

Anyway, Dr. Doom got cancer recently, and has appeared to have died as well. One of his last posts was lamenting the awful process of not only getting cancer, but all the treatment that comes with it. The U.S. medical system is, IMO, completely broken, and it has actually made me wonder if there is something to the idea that patients are actually just customers, that keep the whole system going. We actually experienced this to a degree with my father in laws dialysis issues, and it made me very cynical and distrusting. 

I don't have a history of cancer in my family, but it has always felt like a kind of wildcard spore in the air that even marathon runners or perfectly healthy people can get and then be either bankrupt as a result, a survivor on borrowed time, or a victim whose life is claimed by it.  When I biked across the country during my lefty-Catholic days to promote the USCCB's CCHD grant program to "end poverty" in America, I always thought the claim was dubious, even as a lefty Catholic. "End" poverty? Come on. The Lord himself said we will always have the poor with us. You can't end poverty anymore than you can cure cancer. Personally I'm skeptical of cancer research foundations (maybe not without good reason, see here) and we don't seem any closer to 'ending cancer' today that we were twenty years ago. For those who do tend to "beat cancer" as the saying goes, it always seems to be a spectre of doubt of 'when will it come back?' 

In the case of Professor Doom, as a secular humanist, he did not have the assurance of salvation or the comfort of suffering for a purpose to be used by divine agency as a means of sanctification. The Lord determines how we will die. If he sends us suffering, we are to suffer. If he takes us suddenly, we do quickly. The Lord does as He pleases (Ps 115:3). 

 In the worst of my depressions, I admittedly harbored a secret envy of cancer patients. At least their illness was visible, could be identified and treated, and could elicit understandable sympathy. If they were taken from the earth, it wouldn't be by their own hand either but by the disease. Just seemed like an eviable grace when you are in the midst of mental anguish so severe that you need to keep from having guns and things in the house as a precaution. 

 Although my dad is repeatedly getting cancers removed from his skin, and my brother lost his high school sweetheart to cancer, it hasn't touched me much. I've learned to live a more or less normal life with a mental illness, but if I were to get cancer, I would really be thrown for a loop. I was actually chatting with my wife about this recently: if I got cancer, would it be ok not to go the chemo route? This seems like the default thing, it's just "what you do." You get cancer, you do chemo, maybe buy some more years or decades depending on the severity of the diagnosis. I have three young kids and a wife I love very much. But I really want to meet the Lord (in His time, of course). I am not afraid to die. I am so vigilant about First Fridays and First Saturdays because I really need the grace, and I think about death a lot (memento mori) as a means of preparation, not in sick morbidity. My wife understands this as well. We know our aim is set for Heaven, and that this life is temporary. I'm not looking to extend it any longer than the Lord would require me to. 

St. Robert Bellarmine's The Art of Dying Well has been good reading for me (on audio, in the car) that "those who live well, die well." If the Lord sends me suffering, I pray I can endure if for His sake and for my own sanctification and that of others. If he takes me quickly, what a grace that would be. I have a lot more penance to do in this life, but I am not afraid to meet the Lord. "Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell." (Mt 10:28). His is a severe mercy.