THE CONQUEST OF CANCER

The cure of cancer is now ceasing to become a purely medical problem,

to be solved by biologists, pathologists and surgeons, and is becoming

a problem in psychology, and education, to be solved by publicists,

schoolmasters, and perhaps, when enough people are alive to the facts

of the situation, by legislators and statesmen.

This may sound a bold thing to say, but I hope to be able to bring

forward evidence proving that it is at present possible to cure

seventy-five per cent. of cancer cases with a mortality of under five

per cent.

Possibly the response to this essay will be that of one of the most

enlightened persons of my acquaintance who, on seeing my title, said,

“Of course this is perfectly absurd”, but it was a favourite saying of

Dr Maguire, a great American surgeon of the nineteenth century, that

the most useful thing one man can do for his fellows is to see a thing

clearly, and to say it plainly.

Here is a plain statement, susceptible of the fullest proof. Out of

every hundred people in our community, ten will in all probability die

of cancer; and, of those ten, seven or eight could be cured, or their

disease prevented with the present methods at our disposal. All that is

required is an intelligent facing of the facts concerning this disease,

and efficient medical attention.

The average annual deaths during the last eleven years in the United

Kingdom were 466,000,――nearly half a million people. Of these, 43,000

were due to cancer; 19,000 males and 24,000 females. Moreover, although

taken altogether ten per cent. of the population die of cancer, a

greater proportion of adults so die. I say again that a large proportion

of these cases is either preventable or curable.

The Executive Committee of the British Empire Cancer Campaign have

recently published a statement based on the last census. They say that,

during the year 1921, in Great Britain, of persons over 30 years of

age, one out of every seven died of cancer.

These figures make it plain that the question is not merely one of

interest to doctors and scientists; it is of concern to every one of

us, and to one person in every ten it has direct and very personal

interest.

Surgery and medicine have very little further to advance along

technical lines, so far as the type of case we see at present is

concerned. It is nearly impossible to make operations more extensive

and thorough than they are at present; and it is unlikely that the

operative mortality in the average good risk will fall much lower

than its present very small figure. Other methods of curing cancer do

not at the moment show promise of producing anything so good as the

present surgical results. We have therefore to resort to an educational

campaign for its victims before we can get much further on.

This brings me to the first point to be brought home before any more

is said――that _early_ cancer and _late_ cancer are, so far as results

and cures are concerned, two entirely different diseases. A well-known

English authority, speaking of cancer of the tongue, says: “An early

superficial cancer on the free part of the tongue should be, and

is, curable in practically all cases. The general conviction of the

incurability of cancer is founded on the results of operation on the

average fairly advanced case and, until this conviction is shaken, I

fear the public will remain relatively indifferent and pessimistic as

to the advantages of early treatment. Every surgeon of any experience

is aware that, as regards its accessibility to treatment, early cancer

is a totally different disease from even moderately advanced cancer,

but I am very doubtful as to whether we shall be able to enforce the

fact by direct statement so long as the treatment of advanced cases

furnishes the public with so many terrible object lessons in the

apparent intractability of the disease.”

The problem we have before us, then, is that of changing the whole

attitude, not only of the physician, but of the patient, to cancer.

Here is an example of the present point of view:――I have frequently

heard it said that such and such a patient has a lump, or some

disquieting symptom or other, but she won’t go to the doctor as she

is afraid he will say it is cancer. What we have to do is to strip

this disease of its fear-complex and bring all the facts about it into

the open. We have to change the attitude of the patient, and often,

unfortunately, of his doctor, from one of “wait and see” to one of

“look and see.” Then, and only then, shall we be on the way to curing

cancer.

The results of the present-day and popular point of view are appalling.

Somewhere about half the cases of cancer are far too advanced for

us to think about curing them at the time the patients appear. Of

the remaining half, approximately two-thirds have about a thirty

per cent. chance of cure, and the remainder about a sixty per cent.

chance. These figures are rough estimates based on impressions formed

in hospital out-patient work, but they will not be found far wrong.

The heart-breaking part of it is that it is all the result of fear,

carelessness and crooked thinking, which could be avoided in a large

percentage of the cases.

Yet there are signs that we are entering on a new phase, and that a

realisation of the importance of early diagnosis is slowly permeating

through the medical profession. In America we see an increasing

insistence on the use of detailed and specialised laboratory methods

for exact diagnosis; and in Great Britain there is in existence, at

St. Andrew’s University, a complete medical unit, under the supervision

of Sir James Mackenzie, for the investigation of the early symptoms of

disease. The establishment of this institute is, I think, one of the

most important advances that medicine has made in the last twenty-five

years, for it is a milestone on the road to progress, a concrete and

tangible expression of a changed point of view.

Let us for the moment leave generalities and give some few minutes to

more detailed consideration of the disease; first in outline, and then

in respect of some particular cases.

Cancer is a degeneration. It most often occurs at that period of life

when our biological work is done, and, as far as Nature is concerned,

we are of no use. From _her_ point of view we are on this planet to

reproduce our kind and, when we are past doing that, our tissues begin

to lose their firm hold on their appointed form, and stray from their

former habit of exactly reproducing _their_ kind when attempting to

recover from any kind of injury. Cancer is commonest in those organs

which have soonest finished their work――the reproductive organs of

women; and, after these, it appears most often in that organ so much

more abused than any other――the stomach.

The greatest number of cases appears at or after fifty, and therefore

at that age it behoves us, not to _wait and see_ whether we shall get

it or not, but to _look and see_ that we have not got it, for of people

who survive till the age of fifty, a great many more than ten per cent.

die of cancer.

From the biological point of view cancer presents another interesting

feature. It used to be generally stated by biologists that acquired

characteristics cannot be transmitted. In cancer we see a cell taking

on foreign characteristics in response to some environmental stimulus

and transmitting these to its offspring until the organism from which

it sprang is destroyed.

To sum up, the tissues from which cancer grows, in their normal

process of repair tend to reproduce themselves more or less exactly,

or if the injury is too gross, they are replaced by scar tissue; but

when we reach the age at which their biological work is done, there

is a tendency to atypical reproduction, in which an atypical cell

continues to reproduce itself atypically and grows at the expense of

the organism, eating into or eroding it as it enlarges, till it finally

kills the host on which it preys.

This will serve as a general definition, but, if we wish to be a little

more concrete, we must plunge for a while into the realms of pathology,

in order to get a clearer idea of what cancer means.

Our body is made up of three layers of tissues; each of these has its

separate function, and, within small limits, its own way of reacting

to long continued injury. Early in our prenatal development, these

three layers can be distinguished, and each of these later produces

its own type of tissue, and under appropriate conditions, its own

type of malignant tumour. From the outer and inner layers develop the

cells which actually touch the outside world, that is to say, which

cover the exterior of our body and provide our inner lining, or mucous

membranes. From the inner layer is developed glands which are, so to

speak, ingrowths from this layer, and it is the tumours arising from

this latter tissue layer which mostly concern us now, and which are the

cause of so much human suffering.

These Carcinomata, as they are called, all have something in common,

alike from the point of view of their recognition, pathology and

onset. They begin in some tissue which has previously been the seat

of disease, usually some chronic inflammatory process which has

been present for years, and which may have healed up and broken

down many times. When this occurs on open surfaces, such as the

tongue, intestinal mucous membrane, or lip, we can watch the gradual

transformation of the disease from a simple chronic inflammatory

process to that of a malignant growth.

Let us take, for instance, the case of cancer of the lip. We see an

old man who for years has been smoking a clay pipe. The stem of the

pipe gets shorter as the years go by, and consequently, as he smokes

it, hotter and hotter. One day he notices that his lip is cracked, the

crack being just on that part with which he habitually holds his pipe.

If we were to look at this under the microscope we should just see

that the mucous membrane was broken at this point. Perhaps he stops

smoking for a day or two till his lip has healed, and then continues

to smoke again. Soon, from force of habit, the pipe returns to its

old comfortable spot; and again the lip cracks. This time it is not

so painful, and takes longer to heal. This cracked lip may be present

for years, and if, after some time, we were to look at it again

under the microscope, we should see a very different kind of thing.

All round the crack would be congregated thousands of white blood

cells, trying vainly to assist the sore to heal, but, as well as this,

we should notice that, in their efforts to bridge the gap of broken

mucous membrane, the delicate epithelial cells which line our lips had

increased in number and thickness. We might also see that they had a

tendency to grow down to the deeper layers of the lip.

If we were to persuade our friend to give up his clay pipe and indulge

in some other form of smoking, or even to have a few teeth extracted

so that his pipe was more comfortable in some other position, the

small ulcer would, given time and a little attention, heal up quite

satisfactorily. But, with all the perversity of human nature, he will

not; he only has a small sore: it doesn’t hurt him, or anyone else, so

why should he worry?

We pass on another few years, and our friend reappears. This time his

sore has a more permanent appearance about it. It is hard, and somehow

looks as if it goes deep, and has a tendency to bleed. We look at it

and tell him that he ought to let us cut out that small sore, but as

a rule he won’t allow this procedure; he wants medicine to take for

it, an ointment to put on it. If we were again to have a microscopical

section at our disposal we should see a very different state of things.

Those epithelial cells which before were just thickened, and a little

angry looking, have at last wakened up and begun to grow. They have

branched out and grown deeper into the lip; there is nothing to check

them since they have thrown aside all the restraints imposed by the

necessity of keeping to their original form, and have, so to speak, got

out of the control of the usual mechanisms which the body possesses

for keeping cells in their proper place. The only thing we can do for

the patient is either to find some means to kill them――an end which

has not yet been achieved, as what will kill them will also kill the

patient――or to cut away the tissue in which they have grown, leaving a

wide margin around the farthest palpable edge of the ulcer. If this is

done, the patient can be assured of a permanent cure. But if he will

not believe you, as he often will not, possibly because you are not

willing to stake your reputation on the ulcer being malignant, or the

_certainty_ of its cure by surgery, he will go away for another year

or so. One day he appears again because his ulcer has been showing a

tendency to bleed and has got a bit bigger lately; also he has noticed,

while shaving, a small hard lump in his neck which he feels as the

razor goes over it. He still has no pain and no discomfort whatever.

We look at this and tell him that he has to undergo an operation, both

on his lip and on his neck, and that he has got cancer. We remove the

ulcer and every gland that we can find in a large area around, but

we can only assure him that he has a one in five or three chance of a

permanent cure whereas, if he had taken our previous advice, we could

have promised him a permanent cure in between ninety and one hundred

per cent. of chances, according to the age of the disease.

If we now use our microscope, we see that the undisciplined epithelial

cells have penetrated the lymphatic capillaries which are present

in all our tissues, and have followed them until they reach their

destination, the nearest glands. What will happen next depends on time.

The growth may spread to more glands, or even outside the glands, and

the only course we have open to us is to remove the primary growth,

again with a wide margin, irrespective of what disfigurement may

result, together with its corresponding lymphatic glands, trusting to

radium or X-rays to kill any stray cells that may be set free or missed

during the operation. The chances of cure simply depend on whether it

is possible to remove the disease completely or not.

The figures I have given are taken from a recent analysis of more

than five hundred cases of cancer of the lip carefully followed up.

Of cases in which there were no glands involved, ninety-one per cent.

were cured: of those with glands only eighteen per cent. were cured.

Now here is the point I want to emphasize. The average duration of

all these cases was two and a half years before operation. It is

impossible to devise any more radical operation, with a much lower

death-rate than we at present obtain, and there is no other method

which as yet produces better results than I have just quoted, but it

_is_ possible to do away with that two and a half years of waiting and

medicine. There is no reason for it but ignorance, neglect, stupidity,

self-deception and fear.

The example which I have just quoted is not an unusual one, nor, as I

hope to show you later on, do the figures materially differ for cancer

arising in other parts of the body. Cancer of the lip merely happens to

be a convenient, and easily understood, peg upon which to hang my text.

Cancer is practically always preceded by chronic irritation of some

kind or other. There may be, and in fact are, other factors which enter

into the problem, but there can be no doubt that in nearly all cases

there is what may be called a precancerous stage, which, if adequately

dealt with, will often prevent cancer appearing at all. It is moreover

a longstanding chronic condition which, as a rule, gives rise to very

little inconvenience on the part of the patient.

After this _precancerous_ stage there appears what may be called _early

cancer_, often indistinguishable to the naked eye from the original

precancerous lesion, but giving rise to great suspicion in the eyes of

the initiated on account of its hardness, and tendency to be fixed,

and its resistance to treatment. Cancer in this stage can be cured,

with results which will compare favourably with the cure of any other

known disease (i.e., in about ninety per cent. of all cases) its cure

simply depending on early diagnosis. This is a fact neither known nor

appreciated by the general public, and until it is known by everybody,

and these early stages are radically dealt with, we shall still be

spending our time and money looking for new and miraculous cures for a

condition which, in its very nature, is unlikely to be susceptible to

any method of cure when its late stages are reached.

The third stage is that in which the neighbouring lymph glands are

involved. In this stage about thirty per cent. are incurable, but these

figures are not of much help or comfort to any particular sufferer as

they depend on the degree of involvement and the rapidity of growth.

There is, in the vast majority of cases, no reason why it should ever

reach this stage other than those causes which are within the control

of the patient and his doctor.

Lastly we get to a stage in which the disease is frankly inoperable,

and generally speaking, only capable of relief by one palliative

measure or other. About forty to fifty per cent. of all cases which

reach the surgeon have already arrived at this stage, and it is to

this fact that the generally hopeless attitude of everybody is to be

attributed. It is only when this stage is reached that the patient

has pain and symptoms which “wake him up,” and that he realises the

calamity which has befallen him.

The early signs of cancer may now be summed up as those of a lesion

of some kind, extending over a number of years, giving rise to very

little trouble or inconvenience, and followed by a small hard lump or

ulcer. If the latter is present, it is often characterised by bleeding.

Again, practically no symptoms. To find it we must _look and see_;

often an operation involving practically no suffering and a very small

mortality is necessary. But the penalties of failure to do this at the

proper time are that ten per cent. of the population die of cancer.

There are certain popular misconceptions about cancer which require

correction. The first is that cancer is necessarily painful. This is

responsible for much of the late diagnosis, operative mortality and the

bad results. Only late cancer, and it would not be far wrong to say

only _incurable_ cancer, gives rise to pain. If only pain were an early

sign of cancer the whole aspect of the cancer problem would be changed.

Another very widespread delusion productive of great harm is that

cancer is constantly associated with _wasting_, and makes _rapid

progress_. These two symptoms are constantly associated with the

disease in its latest stages but are not seen at all in early cases.

One frequently hears people say that cancer is contagious, and also

that it is hereditary. These two popular conceptions probably have

the same basis. As we have seen, cancer is a very common disease, and

it would be strange indeed if, putting all question of relationship on

one side, we were not to see it quite commonly occurring in one or more

members of the same family, and if occasionally we did not find a house

in which each successive occupant for some years had cancer. I will

leave it to the mathematicians to work out the probability of cancer

occurring more than once in any given family. The necessary figures are

easily obtained from the Registrar-General’s office. As far as I know,

there is nothing truly in the nature of what may be called _evidence_

in support of either of these notions.

Time after time people have described parasites of some kind as

associated with cancer, but none of them has yet been made to answer

to any of the tests necessary to establish anything more than a

casual correlation. It may turn out to be that the causal agent in

cancer formation is a parasite either visible under the microscope,

or, what is more likely, belonging to the group of ultravisible, or

filter-passing, organisms; but even if this be so, there are two

other factors of immense importance, found so constantly associated

with the disease, that their significance cannot be underestimated by

anyone whose outlook is any wider than that of the mere purveyor of

prescriptions.

These two factors may be considered in a little more detail, as they

are of importance with regard to the question of prevention. They are

(1) the presence of an acid environment, and (2) what, for want of

a better term, may be called chronic irritation. Whatever the prime

cause may turn out to be, these can never be left out of account in any

consideration of aetiology, and even if some specific cause is found,

the discovery will not shake the validity of my thesis.

For two thousand years people have speculated about the origin of

cancer. Galen held a theory somewhat analogous to the present Chinese

doctrine of the _yin_ and the _yang_; he taught, in essence, that some

kind of “ch’i” had got at loggerheads with its fellow gases, and that

the result was a general disturbance of bodily functions. Paracelsus

thought that the salt balance of the body was upset, and textbooks

still sometimes put this into modern medical terminology, saying that

the balance of power between different types of cells is disturbed.

This may or may not _describe_ what happens, but it is a long way from

_explaining_ it.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries cancer was often referred to

as an “act of God” in punishment for sin. For instance, cancer of the

tongue was said to afflict those who spoke against the Church, a view

that the Church, not always strictly scientific in interpretation of

phenomena, did not discourage.

Here is a translation which Sir D’Arcy Power has made from Paul

de Sorbant, a German physician writing in 1672, in his _Universa

Medicina_. “We saw”; he says, “an ulcer of the tongue degenerating into

cancer in the noble baron Vertemali, which caused such a haemorrhage

from destruction of the sublingual arteries and veins that the patient

was suffocated. He recognised with great penitence that the cause of

this cancer was a divine punishment because he had often abused the

clergy.” Benetus, about the same time, in his book called _Medicinae

Septentriniolanus Collatitia_, describes a case of what he calls

“Tumor Linguae Miraculosa.” Here is a translation of part of it.

“There was lately a certain baron who had a very poisonous tongue. He

not only directed his jibes against all and sundry, but he kept his

most venemous shafts for the clergy and those who devoted themselves

to God’s service. He was caught at last in the very act, by a holy

brother of good repute as he was pealing this cursed bell, who said

to him: ‘Your foul tongue has overlong deserved that punishment from

an offended God which it will shortly receive.’ The Baron went off

undismayed, but a few days afterwards a small swelling began to grow

on the side of his tongue. Little by little it increased in size until

it became an inoperable cancer, and at length the tongue having become

incurved, twisted and drawn back to his throat, miserably afflicted,

but penitent and confessed, he was summoned before the Great Judge who

calls his servants to a most strict account.”

This may all seem very far away and out of contact with our present-day

thought, but only two years ago a dear old lady sent to the Cancer

Hospital Research Department two pages of closely written typescript,

the gist of which was that she was withdrawing her usual annual

subscription, as, after giving the matter a great deal of thought, she

had come to the conclusion that cancer was caused by the consumption

of alcohol. So she proposed to forward her usual subscription to the

local Temperance Society which really was striking at the root of the

problem! The Secretary wrote and pointed out that cancer is very common

in cats who are strict prohibitionists! The old lady did not reply!

Let us come back again from theory to fact, and consider some of the

factors which we know constantly to be associated with cancer, and

which we are justified in regarding as being, in many cases, more than

predisposing causes.

The most important of these is chronic irritation. We find that almost

every cancer is preceded for a longer or shorter period by what may be

called a precancerous condition. The more our knowledge increases the

more we are finding out that this holds good.

The commonest sites for cancer are the womb, the breast, and the

stomach. These together account for more than sixty per cent. of all

cancers, and far below them in frequency we find the tongue, the lip,

and the bowel, and the various glands.

Cancer of the womb is constantly preceded for many years by disease,

palpable and curable, often the result of childbearing, and the part

where it occurs is one bathed in an acid medium.

Cancer of the breast also is constantly associated with preceding

chronic inflammation, this condition itself producing, as one of its

by-products, a highly acid substance, further to irritate the delicate

cells already near the end of their tether. Mechanical irritation,

beyond a doubt, is an important factor. Although in civilised countries

the disease is distressingly common, in those countries where the

breasts are habitually uncovered, cancer of this organ is extremely

rare. The habitual friction of modern clothes predisposes cell-growth,

infection from no matter what source is given a foothold, and after

years of abuse, the cells lose the impulse to normal reaction and at

last turn and slay their victim.

There is evidence that about two-thirds of all the cases of cancer of

the stomach originate in an old gastric ulcer, and the constant eating

of hot food is perhaps enough to account for the remaining third. The

delicate gastric cells, more abused than any other cells in the body,

are bathed in a highly acid medium. It is no wonder that departure

from their appointed path accounts for thirty per cent. of all cancers

in men, and in women as well, if we except the two conditions just

mentioned.

In cancer of the kidney, the bladder, and the gall bladder, stones are

nearly always present to initiate the irritation.

In cancer of the tongue, syphilitic or other preceding conditions are

nearly always there, whether it be the irritation from raw alcohol, hot

tobacco smoke, or a broken tooth. It is interesting to note that, until

syphilis appeared in Europe, cancer of the tongue was practically

unrecorded in the existing literature. We have no need to go any

further for examples of these precancerous irritative conditions. They

are all curable or removable, but, as they do not as a rule give rise

to acute painful symptoms, severely inconveniencing the patient, they

are difficult to treat, and the unfortunate patient is told to _wait

and see_, and is given medicine which may for a while relieve, but

which――alas!――seldom has a chance to cure, or to prevent the fate which

is slowly overtaking him.

So far the evidence which has been brought before you, that chronic

irritation has a causal connection with cancer, has been of a

circumstantial nature: it has often enough been found in what we may

call suspicious circumstances, but that does not prove that by itself

it can directly cause the disease. If a man is seen hanging about the

place where a burglary has been committed, it does not prove that he

participated in it. He may be a burglar, or he may be what lawyers

call an accessory before the fact, and before we can feel reasonably

sure that he is a guilty party we must, unless we can actually see him

committing the crime, find that whenever he is present, and he has a

chance, a burglary takes place.

Now in scientific investigation we can do what in ordinary life is

not possible; we can take our burglar, arrange a set of suitable

circumstances and see what happens and with what degree of regularity

thefts occur. In the last four or five years something like this has

been done on a large scale with cancer, and a large body of evidence is

accumulating which suggests that, given suitable circumstances, chronic

irritation will produce cancer with a fair degree of regularity, at

least in some places. If it will do so in some places there is no

reason to doubt that, under circumstances which for the moment we do

not quite understand, it will do so in all the places where cancer is

found.

That this is so has not yet been completely proved, but I think there

is a good deal of evidence along this line. It has been known for a

great number of years that certain skin cancers are constantly found

in people whose occupations necessitate their skin being in contact

with certain chemical irritants. For instance, the workers in shale

oil are often afflicted with cancer of the skin. In the spinning

industry, when reaching over to deal with the machinery, a place on

the worker’s leg is always rubbing up against an oily spindle. This

process goes on for years at the same spot, and these people are found

frequently to get cancer, beginning at the irritated place. Some

aniline dyes are excreted in the urine, and growths of the bladder are

very frequent in aniline workers. In India, some native tribes carry

little metal boxes containing charcoal next to their skin in order to

warm themselves, and the warmed spot frequently becomes the seat of

a malignant ulcer. Further, in chimney-sweeps, whose skin is always

more or less impregnated with carbon, we find that cancer frequently

develops in those places where the soot is difficult to wash completely

away and often is not cleaned off for years at a time. Finally, we

have the well-known examples of skin cancer among X-ray workers, and

mouth-cancer in those who chew betel nut.

Now it is just this type of cancer that we have the opportunity to

imitate in the laboratory. Dr Leitch, of the Cancer Hospital, has taken

rats, guinea-pigs and rabbits; and, day after day for months, soot,

tar, oils and all the irritants he could think of were respectively

painted on some selected part of their bodies. At the Cancer Hospital

he started using tar to paint on the under surface of the bodies of

white mice. This was done every morning for several months, and, in

a large percentage of cases, small warts were produced. The fate of

these warts varied; some of them disappeared, but others progressed

to the formation of true cancer. The results of these experiments made

it extremely probable that the irritants were the direct cause of the

cancer. Of course it is not _proved_, for it is possible to assume that

there is some ubiquitous “other cause”, only waiting till the tissue

resistance is lowered enough by the irritants to get its chance to act.

Another interesting fact, which transpired as the result of this work,

is that some of the animals from whom the warts disappeared developed

cancer a month or so subsequent to the disappearance, thus showing that

the _predisposition_ to cancer formation is acquired long before the

growth actually appears.

In human beings, the process of cancer formation in response to

chemical irritants takes much longer (often twenty to thirty years),

and is preceded by much the same sort of preliminary skin reaction as

in animals.

In looking for a proximal cause for cancer production, we should not,

I think, look for a common cause in all cases, but should try to find

something or _anything_ which will produce the necessary previous

irritation.

It has not, I think, been established beyond a doubt that chronic

irritation is the _sole_ exciting cause of cancer――this in the nature

of things would be very difficult to prove――but it has been shewn that

its presence strongly predisposes to new growth formation.

The problem which now arises is that of how we are going to put this

knowledge we have gained to practical use in the prevention of cancer.

In order to solve this we will consider in some detail the three

commonest cancers met with, namely cancer of the breast, the womb and

the stomach, and we will see how the problem applies to them.

Now in cancer of the breast we have this outstanding fact that,

almost all the cases show for some years beforehand obvious signs of

chronic inflammation of the breast, and in nearly all of them this

precancerous stage can be seen, when they are examined microscopically.

Obviously this is the time to deal with the disease; and the way to

do so is systematically to examine microscopically (by a procedure

in itself devoid of all risk, except the very small one due to

the administration of a general anaesthetic), every _doubtfully_

malignant breast, afflicted by chronic inflammation. This may seem a

revolutionary thing to say; but if we set ourselves to deal with this

plague in the logical manner that we employ when we sit down to deal

with any other pest, and, if we follow all the facts known to their

inevitable conclusion, we are driven to it, and we shall see that there

is no other course open to us but to _deal in a wholesale manner with

the precancerous condition_. To do this we shall have to undertake a

long campaign of education. One of the leading authorities on breast

cancer in America, did undertake such a campaign in his own district,

with the result that, from the enthusiastic propaganda of one man, the

proportion of precancerous to fully developed malignant lesions which

appeared at his clinic rose in six years by thirteen per cent. In

twenty years the proportion of fully developed cancer to pre-malignant

lesions dropped from ninety to seventy-eight per cent.

I am quite sure of the fact that the adoption of this proposal would

mean operations upon a number of breasts which would never become

cancerous, but, so far as I can see, we cannot help this, any more

than we can help vaccinating a large number of people who will never

have small-pox, or, when we isolate diphtheria contacts, can we help

disturbing also a large number of people who will never get diphtheria.

The public have been educated to regard these precautions as natural

and proper, and as a rule raise no objections to their being carried

out. Dr Bloodgood, to whose educational work I have just referred,

states that if any woman could be kept under sufficiently close

observation, she could be practically assured against death from

cancer. I think every other surgeon of experience would agree with him.

So much for prevention and the precancerous lesions. Let us come to

the question of the cure. Here we find that the chances of cure in

any particular case simply depend on the stage at which the case

appears for treatment. We can for convenience divide cases into two

groups; those which have glands involved and those which have not. By

this I mean those which have glands so grossly involved that they are

appreciable to the touch. Again quoting Dr Bloodgood, it is found that

of those cases with gland involvement, twenty-three per cent. only

are cured after seven years but, of those without gland involvement,

sixty-five per cent.

Now, here is the fact which ought to rouse us to action: the average

duration of the disease in these cured cases was nine months――_nine

precious months_ in which that remaining thirty, or forty, per cent.

might have been cured _if they had only been treated earlier_. Or, if

they had been properly examined still earlier by a trained person, the

disease could have been dealt with earlier with a still better chance

of ultimate cure, and it is Dr C. H. Mayo who has said that there is no

reason on earth why about ninety-five per cent. of all cases of cancer

of the breast cannot be permanently cured.

So far we have spoken in detail of cancer of the breast but, when we

come to deal with cancer of the uterus, we shall find that the facts

are almost exactly analogous, only that the results of indecision and

delay are even more deplorable. We find that, by the time they come for

treatment, about half the cases are quite incurable, and those which

are operable are as a rule a great deal further advanced than those of

cancer of the breast. In spite of this we find that out of two hundred

consecutive cases no less than forty per cent. were cured; that is to

say, had no recurrence within seven years. All the cases which were

operated on had had quite definite symptoms for six months. In other

words, the patient herself should have come for examination six months

before she did, and if she had been examined in the course of a proper

routine, the disease could have been discovered far earlier than was

the case.

Quite recently, a report of a series of cases has been published by

Professor Faure, a distinguished French gynæcologist, which so exactly

illustrates my views that perhaps I may be forgiven for making use of

it. Faure cut ninety-six cases of cancer of the uterus and has divided

them into good cases, mediocre cases and bad cases. It is significant

that there were only twenty-one “good” cases, thirty-five “mediocre”

cases and forty “bad” cases. The good cases are what I have called

early cases, the mediocre cases correspond to moderately advanced

cancer, and the bad cases to those which are on the border line

between operability and non-operability. His total results approximate

very nearly to most other published lists but their analysis is very

significant. Of the good cases there was one operative death; of the

remainder seventy-five per cent. were cured and twenty-five per cent.

recurred.

Of the mediocre cases there was an operative mortality of 8.57%. Of

those surviving the operation 62.5% were cured and 37.5% recurred. In

the bad cases there was a post-operative mortality of 22.5%: only six

were cured and twenty-five recurred. That is to say, respectively,

19.35% were cured and 80.65% recurred. These figures tell their own

tale.

With this hopeless condition of affairs it is no use saying that the

results of surgery are bad. They are; but it is not the fault of

doctors, or the methods at their disposal; it is the misfortune of the

patient that her lack of proper education must bear the blame.

Cancer of the uterus is in many cases preceded by precancerous lesions,

all amenable to various kinds of treatment. Again, the only way to deal

with it is not to wait and see whether a woman has got cancer but to

look and see that she has not. Until this is our attitude, the results

are not likely to be much better, whatever the means at our disposal

for its cure.

Finally, turning to another great group of cancers which make up

thirty per cent. of all in men (and in women too, if we exclude the

two previously mentioned types), we find exactly the same condition of

affairs.

In two out of every three cases of cancer of the stomach there is

evidence that it has arisen in an old ulcer, and Dr Mayo has suggested

that eating hot food may account for the remaining third. It is

moreover the experience of all surgeons who systematically submit all

gastric ulcers upon which they operate to microscopic examination,

that about twenty per cent. of them all are malignant.

We have before us the plain fact that from ten to twenty per cent. of

all chronic ulcers which have come for surgical treatment are already

malignant and can only be cured by a complete removal. Another fact

also requires taking into the most serious consideration, and this

is, that it is the considered opinion of by far the large majority of

experienced surgeons that exploration and some form of operation is

the best treatment for every case of chronic gastric ulcer which has

recurred once, or at least twice, after a thorough course of medical

treatment. (The term “chronic gastric ulcer” is here used in its

strictest scientific sense, and by it is meant an ulcer whose diameter

in any one direction is more than a centimeter, and whose edges are

hard and thickened). In spite of this, a distinguished surgeon recently

put on record that every case of gastric ulcer upon which he operated

had on an average been “cured” nine times. Why is this? The reason

is clear. In nearly every case the symptoms of gastric ulcer (and,

remember! twenty per cent. are already cancerous) can be relieved for

a time by palliative treatment, when once again the deluded patient

thinks he is cured.

There is no need for me to point the lesson from this. I have put

forward the facts, and every one can draw his own conclusions. There is

only one gleam of hope that I can see on the horizon, and that is, in

dealing with the disease in an early stage by radical measures, and, in

twenty per cent. of the cases, thus combining prevention with cure.

Again, we must alter our attitude. We must look and see, not merely

“dope” and see! Once symptoms of this disease have recurred after

efficient treatment, there is only one good reason for not looking and

making certain, and that is when the risks of looking exceed those of

the lesion being malignant――that is to say, somewhere between ten and

twenty per cent. At present, the risks of looking are about one in a

thousand, and the risks of removal of a cancer about three per cent.,

taking all cases, most of which are at an advanced stage. The operative

risks of earlier cases are less than this, and to this must be added

about a two per cent. risk of a further operation being necessary――in

all, not exceeding five per cent.

I realise that the adoption of this policy will mean a certain number

of otherwise avoidable operations. I know that it will mean operating

on a few cases that would otherwise get better by themselves, or by

other means. But until it is adopted, there is, as far as I can see,

no prospect of reducing the death-rate from cancer of the stomach. For

so long as indiscriminate medicine-taking has precedence over exact

methods of investigation and treatment, so long will cancer of the

stomach continue to make up thirty per cent. of all cancers. Again

the question is largely out of the hands of the doctors. As long as

patients come to a doctor wanting “a bottle of medicine, doctor, just

to help me carry on”, so long will they get it, as the doctor finds it

hard to refuse. For he knows the patient will go from doctor to doctor

till he gets what he wants.

I have dealt in some detail with the three commonest types of cancer,

but the same arguments apply to all. The problem is not so much how to

cure cancer――so much can, and is being constantly done by one method or

another――but how to educate people so that we can get hold of cancer

early. The problem is one of diagnosis, and is therefore to be solved

by education and courage, not by hesitation and fear.

No statement of the cancer problem would be complete without some

mention of two methods of treatment which have recently come much to

the fore: namely, the use of X-rays and of radium.

To give any really useful account of these is very difficult, as no

really satisfactory groups of cases have been published, and one can

only speak from one’s own experience and that of colleagues who have

been working with them.

The action of both these methods of treatment is in essence the same.

It has been found that X-rays and radium have the power of destroying

living tissue when such is exposed to their action for varying lengths

of time. Fortunately, cancerous tissue is destroyed before normal

healthy tissue, and it is the aim of the treatment to expose the growth

to that dosage of rays which will kill the malignant tissue but just

fall short of doing harm to the normal tissue. Sometimes this is more

easily done with X-rays and sometimes with radium; it all depends on

the position of the growth. This all sounds very attractive, and one

would think that, on the surface of things, with such a weapon at our

disposal, every case could easily be efficiently dealt with. But, like

many other superficially attractive things, it is found on further

examination to have its drawbacks. Although a proper dose of X-rays

will kill cancer tissue, a smaller dose will stimulate it to further

action. Further, these rays have, comparatively speaking, a very low

penetrating power. They are absorbed and rendered inactive by thin

layers of metal, of skin or of other tissue.

Now, as has already been explained, a malignant growth, as well

as extending superficially, tends to spread very deeply and also

to involve neighbouring structures, and when X-rays or radium are

applied to it, we find that in some cases it will deal with the more

superficial parts of the growth but leave the deeper parts untouched,

or even more active than before. All kinds of methods have been tried

to get over this, such as burying radium in the substance of the

growth, and using very big doses, applied to various aspects of the

growth, but, so far, although there have been some very encouraging

results, the problem has not been solved.

As has been said, it is extremely difficult to estimate the exact value

of this treatment, as no figures are of any value till _seven years_

at least have elapsed after treatment, and no such figures have been

published. There can be no doubt, however, that an occasional case has

been cured, but it is the experience of all that the results of radium

treatment do not approximate in any way to the percentage of cures

obtained by surgery, even in those types of cancer which react best to

X-rays or radium.

Dr Knox, of the Cancer Hospital, London, who has had much experience

of high tension X-rays, says that the treatment of malignant disease

by X-rays has not yet reached that stage where it ought to be given to

any operable case instead of an operation. I think this opinion may be

regarded as an authoritative statement of the situation as it is at

present.

This is not all, however; X-rays and radium have a very important place

in the treatment of cancer, and as far as we can see at present, the

future hope lies in a judicious combination of one or the other of

these with surgery, for early operable cases, and their prolonged and

intensive use in those advanced cases which cannot be removed by other

means. A few advanced cases have even been rendered operable by this

means.

In combination with surgery this method has its very greatest use in

the prevention of superficial recurrences. In every operation, in

spite of the greatest care, it is impossible to avoid the setting free

into the tissues of a few cancer cells which may grow later into a

recurrence. Post-operative radiation bids fair to abolish this type

of recurrence, which formerly accounted for a good percentage of all

recurrences.

From time to time many methods have been brought forward which have

for a little while promised well, but so far none of them has produced

results in any way comparable with those obtained by complete removal

of the growth by surgical means.

I have not dealt with these in any detail here because, whether

ultimately we use drugs, surgery, violet leaves or any of the recently

popularised methods of “taking thought” to cure the disease, the main

point of my thesis will still hold good, and that is, that by far the

most important factor in the cure of the disease is that of _early

diagnosis_. This lies in the hands of the public far more than in those

of the medical profession. If the public want early diagnosis they will

get it, when they insist on it, just as they get anything else they

insist on, from self-government to prohibition, no matter how good or

bad it may be for them.

Briefly stated, most cases of early cancer are curable, and the

diagnosis of early cancer is only to be made by _looking_ instead of

_waiting_. On these facts, certain constructive proposals can be based.

They are so simple that they are not likely to be heeded for some time

to come, for the public has always preferred Abana and Pharpar, rivers

of Damascus, to washing in Jordan, and I suppose always will do, till

we reach a more enlightened age.

Nevertheless I believe it is true, and without exaggeration, to say

that about ninety per cent. of all cases could be cured or prevented if

the following statements were accepted.

If all persons over forty years of age were routinely examined once

every six months to see that they had not cancer, or a precancerous

condition, and if these when found were promptly dealt with, then

cancers of the rectum, tongue, lip, breast, skin and uterus would cease

to be the plagues they are at present.

Similarly, if every patient who had taken more than a pound of bismuth

to relieve gastric pain were routinely explored to see that cancer

or gastric ulcer did not exist, the large majority of growths in this

region would be either prevented or cured. Similar rules can easily be

devised to deal with cancers arising in other parts. What is wanted

is a change of attitude on the part of everyone concerned. After all,

a fortnight in bed, with forty-eight hours of discomfort, is not too

great a price to pay for freedom from this disease, and, with proper

examination, even this would be unnecessary in most cases.

Every intelligent person is aware that, in order to ensure freedom

from dental disease, it is necessary to have his teeth examined every

six months, and to have small lesions dealt with in their very early

stages. All have come to this conclusion because they know that

neglected dental disease means pain; and they now look to see that

their teeth are normal, instead of waiting for a toothache to come.

It is true that there are still some of our weaker brethren who still

wait till they get toothache before they visit the dentist; and for

them there is nothing to be done. In the same way, if we wait for the

advanced signs of cancer to develop, the position with regard to its

cure will remain approximately what it is to-day.

The education of the public up to this pitch is by no means an

impracticable proposal. The position with regard to appendicitis is

very much the same as that of cancer. What has been done in the case

of appendicitis? The mortality is in proportion to the number of hours

during which the disease has existed. Twenty years ago appendicitis

was responsible for a large number of deaths. During 1919 and 1920

there was, in a large London General Hospital, only one death from

appendicitis, and yet there were at least 5 cases dealt with every

week. This improvement is entirely the result of education of the

public and their doctors. They know that to be cured operation must be

early, and so we no longer wait to see whether the patient is going to

die; if we suspect it, we look and see whether it is present or not.

True, we remove unnecessarily a fair number of appendixes but, by so

doing, we purchase, for a much larger number of people, immunity from

death by this disease. When exactly the same principle is applied to

cancer we shall be in a position to be a great deal more satisfied than

we are at present.

One of the most successful ways of treating a patient with

fixed ideas is by the use of _explanation_ combined with strong

_counter-suggestion_. This is the method of psycho-analysis and

hypnotism. No patient is more susceptible to this kind of treatment

than that capricious lady, Public Opinion. If we want to realise the

ideals put forward in the early part of this essay, we must mobilise

all our resources: the Press; the Platform; the Consulting Room: for

a prolonged and intensive campaign against this black spot on our

civilization.

The conquest of cancer · 第 8 / 10 题