A few months ago, one of Gary's aunts was diagnosed at the Mayo Clinic with a peculiar ailment: small-cell lung cancer. Evidently this form of cancer mimics neurological ailments: deafness, muscle weakness, trembling, and so on. Gary's aunt went through numerous doctors for years before she went to the Mayo Clinic. They gave her months to live: a few monre with chemo and radiation.
Then, she went to the Utopia MediSpa and Wellness Institute in Clearwater Florida, Purveyors of Holistic Bullshit. The diagnosed her with "a virus in her immune system," and they recommended hypobaric chamber treatments and lymph node massages.
Gary was maddened by this and stomped about and called them charlatans. That's probably why when his aunt called today with good news from Clearwater, he didn't come in and Wilma took the phone off speaker.
However, she was so enthusiastic about her diagnosis and her weight gain and all the encouragement she's been getting from the staff that Wilma put her back on the speaker phone. Soon I had to leave the room. Otherwise I would have demanded, "Who says they have a 90% cure rate? Oh, the staff at Utopia." "Who says you can still smoke when you have 'an immune system virus?' Oh, those nice nurses at Utopia?" "Who says you're gaining weight? Oh, the scales at Utopia."
I swear, I would be less crazed were there a brochure for the families of the terminal patients that said, "Utopia, deluding your loved ones until they die happy." Fine by me.
I know myself that having a good attitude can increase your health. I see why she thinks having chemotherapy will decrease your health. I see her point of view, and it isn't even any of my business. I know how my family treats end-of-life scenarios. "Three months to live? Off me now already." (That was a dramatization.)
I stayed away until the "Praise Jesus" sounds died down and they were off the phone.
Not my family, not my way, not my business. Grr.