So often people undergoing treatment for diseases, like breast cancer, are offered prayers from the devout. Although established religions are anathema to me, I’m loath to come down heavily on someone who, after all, has my best interests at heart. But, while I also realise that prayers are a comfort to those praying, it can be a bit annoying when, sometimes, the prayer is heading towards proselytising.
I have to say, that organised religions such as Christianity just make me annoyed, even though I certainly had plenty of opportunity to plug into Christianity growing up. It’s because of all the trouble the various religious denominations have caused throughout history. I know this is prejudicial, and I acknowledge that religions work well for so many people, and very often do good things. And, whilst I’m not overly spiritual, as a humanist I believe in common values, freedom, and the independence of human beings, and place great store in morality.
Cancer is a serious illness that needs to be treated scientifically, and very often in a timely manner. While a religious person might immediately turn to prayer, I decided I needed to be as scientifically informed as possible before I faced an array of medical professions including breast surgeons, oncologists and radiologists. My Internet searches became more important when I was found to be Stage IIIB with two positive nodes and signs of inflammatory breast cancer. The effort some put into prayer, I put into research.
Over the years, I’ve noticed how much store many placed in the power of prayer to handle breast cancer diagnoses, treatments, and the fear of recurrence. Without having religion as a prop, when I came into contact with many cancer survivors as part of my work as a patient advocate and counsellor, I wondered if I was missing a valuable tool to help them. This got me thinking about the methods non-religious patients used to attain medical resilience without believing in a deity.
I turned to bloggers on the atheism thread of the world’s largest breast cancer self-help community,BreastCancer.com, for the answers. The feedback from other atheists whofaced cancer without religion as a support, showed some remarkable similarities.
Atheists speak
One woman from Portland, OR, stated: “I haven’t ever thought that suddenly believing in the unprovable, illogical fairy tales would be particularly helpful. I adhere deeply to morality, values and ethics, but I haven’t ever (since my early 20’s) felt the need to shop at the religion mall to acquire those. In so many cases, the blind faith that’s required for religion doesn’t encourage, or stand up to critical examination, logic, or questioning; in fact, it stops my intellectual, inquiring mind cold.”
“I’m fortunate to have a lifetime of professional and personal experiences, education and training which have built my inner tool chest to face this difficult diagnosis. I’ve had the support of kind and loving family members and friends, and I am lucky to have stable mental health. While treatment has been hugely challenging, I have been able to dig deep and find inner strength. There is nothing comforting to me about abdicating responsibility for my health and happiness to a supernatural being.”
“I’m grateful to ‘believe’ in science and evidence-based medicine. For me, life is a journey of learning, and a quest for wisdom, experiences, knowledge, relationships, etc.; self-actualization in other words. This inner quest is not reliant on legend and myth.”
A Philadelphia woman, who is “Jewish by culture and DNA”, did not find god when she received her Stage 4 MBC de novo diagnosis a couple of years ago. Rather, she found that “the only things that could truly relieve her anxiety were love, medication, exercise and meditation. “So I guess these are my gods and my religions now.”
She’s not 100% sold on science since she believes there are too many loopholes in research that cannot be spoken for. This woman does, however, “believe in the power of love and in the healing power of someone witnessing our pain. I believe healing can happen when we have a witness to see our suffering. That’s why groups like AA and NA work, because there are witnesses that listen to and empathize with our stories.”
“Love is my religion”, she concludes.
Ananda just faded from religious upbringing into non belief. She’d even read the bible, cover to cover and came away knowing she was an atheist. She studied non-theistic Buddhism, a strand called Theravada, and the meditation, Metta, is what helped her through diagnosis, treatment, and fear of recurrence. “Metta is a meditation that wishes goodness to oneself, one’s loved ones and slowly encompasses all of life. This type of meditation calms the mind.”
Alice B has not only been through breast cancer diagnosis and treatment, she’s had kidney cancer and a radical nephrectomy. She says, “not once did I blame a deity when any of these series of unfortunate events transpired, nor did I thank one when they were over. I put my trust in science and reality. I balanced all the bad things with time in nature, from taking short recovery walks in a woodsy park to longer day and multi-day trips to other parks. I guess I might have some pantheistic leanings, but scientific pantheism rather than the smooch-a-tree variety.”
“I guess I like Sir Terry Pratchett’s idea that no one really is dead until their name is no longer spoken. It’s up to us to build strong memories with and for our loved ones.”
Another correspondent, a woman from Houston, grew up in a non-churchgoing home, although her parents were believers. The lack of exposure, a natural independence, and an interest in biology and geology, made “buying into the biblical fairy-tale impossible.” She notes, “cancer happens, cells go bad and while it was shocking to be diagnosed stage 4 at 41, I still felt good. I mostly trust my medical care and do what I can to help (like staying active for body and mind) but I have little fear and no reason to call on something to save me. I cope by being an optimist, finding beauty in nature, joy in experiences, an incredible and supportive husband, and a little luck now and then.”
Springflowers also has no use for religion, “I have had way too much of it. I don’t fear death, I am facing reoccurrence and possible mets right now, and so many are “praying” for me. I fear neither death nor afterlife, but I am terrified of pain and debilitation.”
MinusTwo has no problem with death, and doesn’t fear it. “If I simply disintegrate back to nature, or move into another world (parallel or in the clouds) or am reincarnated — all would be fine with me. On diagnosis, she was in a hurry to “get it out” and get on with her life, and it never occurred to her to think about death. With the recurrence two years later, it was more of a slog, since she required immediate’ treatment due to her HER2+ status, and there were lots of side effects. In spite of not attaining pCR, and other circumstances, she, “really didn’t ponder death, just quality of life.” Her only fear is a lingering, painful transition, since she saw her mother undergo such a trial for 12 long years.
Santabarbarian states, “although I am an atheist, I am willing to let people pray for me if they want to. I find the prayer/God part completely silly, but not the sentiment of love, or wanting to give thanks for the wellbeing of another person, which is kind/meaningful. My resilience in the face of cancer comes from a few sources. First, “I do not fear death. I’m pretty sure it’s a lot like being in a deep, dreamless sleep — one of my favorite activities.”
“My loose threads are basically tied up and I don’t have any big guilt or regrets. I have incredibly wonderful, devoted, friends who have made my life rich and full. I have peace and contentment, and feel lucky to have had the life I’ve already had, whatever happens.”
I’m one of the lucky people living in a country with a good healthcare system and having access to the best available drugs and the finest medical practitioners for my cancers, breast and prostate. I’m fortunate that the evidence-based scientific treatments prescribed by these people have me in remission. I have an advance health directive in place, as I certainly don’t want to linger in pain.
The most hypocritical thing for me would be to ascribe to religion as a prop when things are looking down. Luckily, I’m not afraid of dying, so one thing’s for sure, there’ll be no deathbed conversions for me!
Rod Ritchie
June 2019
MaleBC.org