The bell-ringing ritual is a familiar sound in many cancer wards — there are now 427 end-of-treatment bells in hospitals across the UK — but while for some it marks an important milestone, for others it’s an unwelcome reminder that they will never be able to celebrate the ‘end of treatment’, as their condition is incurable and the end of treatment means doctors have run out of options.
Remember when we allowed people to do things that made them feel better about their situation, and if it didn't make you feel that way, you just kept quiet out of respect for their choices?
Me too. It was a nicer world, wasn't it?
Meanwhile, even those who take part can be left with negative feelings about the experience. A study of 200 cancer patients, published in the International Journal of Radiation Oncology in 2020 found that patients who rang the bell reported more distressing and longer-lasting memories of treatment than those who didn’t. Researchers suggested the sound could create a ‘flashbulb’ event, locking in bad memories and creating false hope.
Silly me, I though cancer researchers just researched ways to defeat cancer...
Now there is increasing patient-led debate about the value of the end-of-treatment bell ceremony, with some campaigning to scrap the practice in the UK entirely — this has already led to some hospitals, such as Royal Shrewsbury Hospital, removing the end-of-chemo bell from the Lingen Davies Oncology Centre after complaints from patients.
This must be the only sign that the NHS actually cares about patient's wishes.
In March last year, at a cancer treatment centre near to where I live, I gave three rings on the bell in the waiting room to signify the end of, at times, harrowing treatment for stage 4 prostate cancer. I felt wiped out, fearful of the future in knowing my immune system was shot to pieces, yet elated that the brilliant treatment received has probably lengthened my life span. The round of applause from the other people in the waiting room gave me the strength to turn my self-pity into one of hope. I believe, and hope, the ringing of that bell showed those present that there can be light at the end of their own, particular, dark tunnel, and I walked out of that clinic with a smile on my face and the sounds of "congratulations" and "well done" in my ears, even though it's the clinical staff who deserved the accolades.
ReplyDeleteThis is my own story and experience, and the law of averages shows that not everyone will ring that bell, but every little act which gives hope from those suffering from all cancerous diseases should, IMHO be retained.
Penseivat
"with some campaigning"
ReplyDeleteWhy do I automatically think those 'some' are both a tiny, unrepresentative minority (and guaranteed to be the usual 'activist' loud-mouths), and of some 'special' demographic?
[We'll gloss over the likelihood/certainty that it is partly because it requires work, or at least effort, by those who would much rather spend their days being paid to dance for tiktok videos, or just gossip. And that the patients wishes are not just secondary, but irrelevant, and the 'respondents' to the "research" were manipulated by the usual pressure, phrasing and suggestion to ... give the answer those paying for the research wanted.]
"...every little act which gives hope from those suffering from all cancerous diseases should, IMHO be retained."
ReplyDeleteSorry to hear what you've been through, but fully agree - hope is so important, and anything that gives someone that should never be discarded.
"Why do I automatically think those 'some' are both a tiny, unrepresentative minority (and guaranteed to be the usual 'activist' loud-mouths), and of some 'special' demographic?"
Because, these days, that almost always turns out to be the case?