Cancer 50

A few years ago a very good book on traumatic stress was written by Bessel van der Kolk, who works in Boston (Massachusetts, not Lincolnshire). It is called The Body Keeps the Score, and is well worth a read. The fundamental point of the book is that when negative things happen to you these are remembered by the mind/body, and these can be then expressed as traumatic stress or PTSD. Van der Kolk discusses the techniques that can be used to effectively deal with these problems.

The body keeps the score in many ways. We all know this. It is certainly not just about traumatic stress. The old phrase life fast die young has meaning, not that I would claim to have lived fast, though I think the latter is a near certainty (yes, I am saying 60 is young. Deal with it). I used to smoke in my teens and twenties. I used to drink more alcohol than I should. I love red meat, bacon and sausage, along with black pudding, haggis, and most other forms of processed meat. I have never been a drug taker apart from in my teenage years the odd bit of cannabis (about five times in total perhaps) and a few years of seasonal magic mushrooms, where I tended to double up with each dosage, so fortunately the season was short. I have never, to my knowledge, seen cannabis or heroin. As with most people there have been a number of other risky activities in my life. Nevertheless, my risk count seems to have added up and indicated that it is time for me to have cancer (and heart disease). The body keeps the score. Inevitably there are other factors, such as genetics and personality, but the score probably matters.

I have always known about the risks involved with some of these activities, but as a youngster I was, like most people, immortal, and by the time I realised I was mortal all the bad habits had set in. There is often a disjuncture between when we know and what we do. It is probably a problem associated with the way the mind works. How would I know, I am just a psychologist? Why do so many people (traditionally mostly men) know what they should eat and how they should behave but do the opposite? What is wrong with us? Presumably the common assumption is that it will happen to others, otr that it will happen in a distant future when it won’t matter. There is also plenty of evidence that we are poor at using risk and probability in everyday life. And bacon is delicious.

This talk of body and mind suggests a classic Cartesian dualist perspective, where the body functions independently of the mind, and the mind itself has separate elements. Dualism is at one level utter nonsense because the brain – generally acknowledged to be the seat of the mind (I said I was a psychologist) – is just another bodily organ like the liver or the heart; but at another level the body and the mind appear to be functionally distinct, with the mind being partially conscious and, it appears, partially non-conscious, and there is often conflict between various elements, which may explain risky behaviour.

As a glass half full person my conscious mind is largely concerned with the positive aspects of life and the non-negative aspects. I try to live my life in a satisfactory and enjoyable way, taking an interest in what I and those around me do, reading good books, and admiring the countryside. I sometimes fail. I am sometimes anxious, I am sometimes depressed, but it rarely lasts for long. A good rule of life is to enjoy the positives for a long time and ensure the negatives are brief. Football is a good example for me. As a fair weather supporter of Derby County and England, as I watch a match I will be suitably enthusiastic, and if they win I will enjoy the pleasure of that for a day or two. If they lose, then I will be down for about five minutes, and then forget about it. It doesn’t matter, and what is the point of negative thinking? It is a good strategy for football and it is a good strategy for life. Unfortunately, it does not always work this way.

The other day I drove through the Highlands of Scotland, which has two fundamental pleasures for me (apart from being with the wife), being in a beautiful place and driving; but cancer got in the way. As I was driving I started thinking that this is likely to be the last time I drive here because I will soon be dead. This stopped my enjoyment of both the scenery and the driving. This sort of thing is usually momentary, but on this occasion it lasted for minutes before I knocked it out of myself. I do wonder if this is going to be an increasing problem, like the growth of my tumours. I will have to fight it.

The body might keep the score, but I don’t have to constantly take notice of that score, especially as the world is such a beautiful place.