OCTOBER 1 — Our health minister says Malaysians need to get serious about regular health screenings.
Roughly 50,000 Malaysians are getting diagnosed with cancer every year.
Yet the reality is that many people just don’t want to know.
I postponed my (free) mammogram twice because my gut feelings told me something was wrong but I couldn’t face being right.
“What I don’t know won’t hurt me” is a reason why many Malaysians fear getting tested; they fear the pain, the expense and the burden of the diagnosis.
I’ve seen young people with cancer in the very early stages have meltdowns online even though their prognosis is good and their treatment won’t involve that big cancer bogeyman — chemotherapy.
We tell people it’s better to know while not not fully addressing the fact that the enormity of the diagnosis is not easy to take.
At the start of my cancer journey I was just too busy chasing tests and raising funds to have an emotional breakdown.
The only time I could actually really just let go and cry was after I had enough funds not to worry about my treatment costs.
Now I’m slowly easing into “normie life” that doesn’t revolve around my cancer treatments and diagnosis, but October will mostly be me recuperating after three weeks of radiotherapy.
I’m almost looking forward to showing my face at the office come November (barring my legs turning into jello again) because it will mean I can relegate being a cancer patient to being a part-time and not a full-time job.
Yet the challenges of being in the public healthcare system grows.
The patients in the oncology department and daycare ward have nearly doubled from when I first started treatment at KL General Hospital.
Rising insurance costs, increased private hospital fees and a softer economy mean people are turning to public healthcare.
Add to that the swift exodus of public healthcare personnel and I sometimes feel like I’m on a creaky boat that could capsize at any time.
I have five more months of immunotherapy to do and at least five more years of hormone suppressing medications to take.
Will my treatment plan survive this government’s determination to somehow shunt more people towards private healthcare despite it becoming even more unaffordable than it already was?
Will the four overworked staff in oncology daycare one day just quit en masse and leave people like me having to learn to stick their own IV lines or endure inexperienced junior residents’ attempts?
The future looks terrifying but apart from venting in this column I have little recourse but to show up and pray a lot.
As Singapore and Australia keep absorbing our healthcare staff faster than a Dyson vacuum, I think I may have to pray a lot harder.
* This is the personal opinion of the columnist.
