Our comparatively new king, Charles III, and I have something in common: a malady disguised by many a euphemism (Note: that’s a five-dollar word to comfort those who find reality too harsh). I think the USA invented Big C. Certainly it was a US movie – the first version of Ocean’s Eleven back in the sixties – which launched The Big Casino.
Charles was complimented for going public. A good sport, having received, as it were, an invitation to a party few wanted to attend. Fair enough. Previously the UK royal family only contracted anonymous ailments. None that I know of ever suffered the indignity of haemorrhoids. Too hard to spell.
The popular UK newspapers handled this news gruesomely, making me queasy. I wanted to give you a flavour of their glutinous sentiments but the Internet was silent.
More than that, the apocalyptic tone employed in referring to cancer. The sheer horror, etc. As if the word itself was infectious.
So why do I find myself distanced by this news? Maybe because I’m more than a decade older than Charles. The younger you are the more horrified the response, it seems.
But let’s get one thing straight. Forget all misapplied references to anything like “courage”. The surgeon dispensing my first diagnosis was quite gruff. I idly wondered (aloud) whether any hacking and/or cutting would be worth submitting to. He became gruffer, promised me “a miserable death” if I discounted surgery. Good on him.
Was I being philosophical? Better cancer than Alzheimers? Perhaps. Fact is I surprised myself; truly there are more interesting things to think about. How to improve my singing timbre. Giving Tone Deaf wider appeal. Cancer stuff is terribly predictable and I hate being obvious.
Charles has gone into medical purdah. Pity. Couple of questions I could ask.
I agree about the use of words like "courage," or bravery when referring to someone else who is living through a difficult life challenge. We do what we have to do, don't we? Some do it better than others, but I'm not sure that is because of courage. There must be better and more accurate words to describe facing a situation straight on.
ReplyDeleteColette: A better word would be "fortitude", not that I'm claiming it for myself. My reaction - which was hardly a conscious matter - was to continue adhering to the priorities I'd already established in life, the activities that had proved to be the most interesting and most rewarding. Later, a new priority was added - looking after VR with her illness.
DeleteYour difficulty with spelling “hemorrhoids” stems in part from trying to cling to ligatures used in ancient language. While you’ve succeeded in halving them, you’ve not progressed to discarding the extraneous vowel. The double r followed by h is currently on trial in the advanced world, its fate hinging upon the argument that phonetic should be spelled with an f.
ReplyDeleteMy research indicates that “The Big C” was introduced to the mainstream by John Wayne in 1965, who claimed he’d beaten lung cancer at age 57 by having a lung removed - possibly a valid claim, as he lived another 15 years before succumbing to stomach cancer.
Surgery is some of the best medicine out there.
MikeM: I have had this argument about spelling with some of your co-citizens before. The US, by its own decision, decided to clean up the peculiarities of the English language and blew it. For instance: removing the "u" from "colour" was the feeblest of gestures. The resultant word "color" is no easier - nor more logical - to spell and is still at odds with the pronunciation.
ReplyDeleteBy refusing to follow the US in these half-hearted developments we Brits - or at least those of us who are language-conscious - may still revel as smart-asses by being able to show the world we know how to spell the medical alternative to "piles".
More seriously, by retaining such spelling oddities we also retain pointers to the etymology of various words for those who have a genuine interest in the glittering gallimaufry that is English.
Gallimaufry is new to me. Not pronounced as I first guessed.
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