TREATMENT COST: THE HARM BEHIND HEALING
Opening the Curtain on Oncology’s Hidden Exchange
They don’t say it outright, but every cancer patient learns it quickly: to receive treatment, you must surrender something.
In my case, it was my thyroid. And my hearing. And the clarity of thought I once took for granted.
After being diagnosed with head and neck cancer, I underwent the standard course: cisplatin-based chemotherapy paired with high-dose radiation. What followed wasn’t a series of rare complications. It was the expected outcome. Predictable. Systematic.
Cisplatin stole my hearing and dulled my cognitive sharpness—what’s often brushed off as “chemo brain”, but is actually MCI (mild congnitive impairment).
Radiation burned through my salivary glands, fractured teeth, and seared lymph nodes no scan had labeled cancerous.
My thyroid stopped functioning. Permanently.
My body aged. My face wrinkled. My bearded disappeared. My stamina withered. My voice changed.
None of this was framed as failure. These injuries were part of the plan. There was no surprise, no accountability, no tracking, only an expectation that I recover around the wreckage.
This experience is not unique. It’s protocol.
In head and neck cancers, the damage is not a side effect, it is the treatment. And in nearly every major cancer, this exchange exists: the patient must give something up to continue. Hearing. Memory. Organs. Fertility. Energy. Time. Dignity. The only question is what, and how much.
The Theater of Care
They call it care.
But what it often resembles is theater.
Not the frantic choreography of an emergency room. Not the sterile precision of an operating room. The theater of cancer care is subtler. It’s quiet. Soothing. Designed to help patients accept what should never feel normal.
In infusion centers, walls are painted in soft, calming hues. Chairs recline. Warm blankets are passed from nurse to patient. Televisions play travel reels and cooking shows. The mood is almost spa-like—except for the invisible fact that cytotoxic chemicals are being pushed into the bloodstream.
This isn’t deception in the malicious sense. It’s choreography.
It’s comfort by design. A deliberate staging that masks biological danger beneath emotional calm. Behind the warm blanket is cisplatin, a 60-year-old chemical carcinogin known to cause cancer, sterilize organs, and compromise cognition. In any industrial context, its handling would require protective gear, sealed environments, and rigid protocols. But in medicine, it’s carried by naked hands and called healing.
So the safeguards vanish.
A few doors away, radiation treatment tells a different story. There, the risk is acknowledged. Lead-lined rooms. Flashing red lights. Technicians behind glass. The message is clear: this can hurt you. Radiation therapy wears its danger openly. But chemotherapy? It hides its hazard behind hospitality.
And that concealment isn’t accidental. It’s institutional.
The Role of Performance
Consider these questions.
If a nurse walked in wearing a hazmat suit…
If your IV bag was marked with a skull and crossbones…
If the chair was surrounded by containment alarms…
Would you still consent?
The theater of care isn’t just aesthetic, it’s strategic. By softening the optics of risk, it reduces resistance. Patients are moved along not by transparent disclosure, but by engineered comfort. The harm becomes invisible. The cost becomes internalized.
Even the language participates in the act.
“Therapy” makes poison sound restorative.
“Side effect” implies disposability.
“Compliance” replaces consent.
“Hope” is bundled with harm and sold as courage.
The more persuasive the performance is, the less likely the patient is to hesitate. And hesitation, in a revenue-driven model, is inconvenient.
So, the show continues.
A System Built to Continue, Not to Cure
Consider this.
Every injury becomes inventory.
Every consequence becomes a new specialist service line.
Each organ damaged by chemo becomes a new doctor referral.
Each complication from radiation becomes a new billing code.
Failure isn’t punished. It’s monetized. This isn’t cynicism. It’s a structural observation. The system isn’t malfunctioning, it’s functioning exactly as designed.
Meanwhile, patients are left to recover in silence. To thank the very protocols that injured them. To wear their damage like a badge of honor … proof of survival.
But here’s the truth:
What’s called care isn’t always healing.
What’s called progress isn’t always humane.
What’s called survival isn’t always livable.
And until we strip back the curtain and look at what this system really demands, we’ll keep applauding its performance—without ever seeing the cost.
This is the Beginning of Treatment Facts
This page is the doorway to a deeper exploration of what modern cancer care actually entails. Not the brochures. Not the hospital tours. The truth.
Here, we’ll examine:
The origins of chemotherapy in chemical warfare
The systemic injuries mislabeled as “side effects”
The outdated drugs still defining front-line treatment
The hidden logic of radiation therapy
The tools you were never given to ask better questions
You shouldn’t have to survive designed harm just to be treated.
You shouldn’t have to sacrifice who you are in order to stay alive.
So, before you navigate forward pause here.
Ask what you’re being asked to give up. And whether the system or anyone else in the room is keeping track.
References
Chattaraj, A., et al. “Cisplatin-Induced Ototoxicity: A Concise Review of Preventive Therapies and Otoprotectants.” JCO Oncology Practice, 2023.
https://ascopubs.org/doi/10.1200/OP.22.00710 ASCO Publications
National Cancer Institute. “Cognitive Impairment in Adults With Cancer (PDQ®) – Health Professional Version.” Updated Nov. 7, 2024. Accessed Nov. 26, 2025.
https://www.cancer.gov/about-cancer/treatment/side-effects/memory/cognitive-impairment-hp-pdq Cancer.gov
Jensen, S. B., et al. “Salivary Gland Hypofunction and Xerostomia in Head and Neck Radiation Patients: Causes, Consequences, and Management.” JNCI Monographs, no. 2019(53), 2019.
https://academic.oup.com/jncimono/article/2019/53/lgz016/5551361 OUP Academic
Rooney, M. K., et al. “Hypothyroidism Following Radiotherapy for Head and Neck Cancer: A Systematic Review of the Literature and Opportunities to Improve the Therapeutic Ratio.” Cancers (Basel), vol. 15, no. 17, 2023.
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/37686597/ (DOI: https://doi.org/10.3390/cancers15174321) PubMed
U.S. Food and Drug Administration. “Cisplatin for Injection—Full Prescribing Information.” 2022.
https://www.accessdata.fda.gov/drugsatfda_docs/label/2022/018057s092lbl.pdf
(Label states: “Cisplatin for injection is a cytotoxic drug.”). FDA Access DataU.S. Dept. of Health and Human Services, National Toxicology Program. “Cisplatin—Report on Carcinogens, 15th Edition (Profile).” 2021.
https://ntp.niehs.nih.gov/sites/default/files/ntp/roc/content/profiles/cisplatin.pdf
(Listed as “reasonably anticipated to be a human carcinogen.”) ntp.niehs.nih.govNote: “Class 1 carcinogen” is IARC terminology. In U.S. government sources, NTP uses “known” or “reasonably anticipated.” NIOSH’s 2024/2025 hazardous drugs list shows cisplatin as IARC Group 2A (“probably carcinogenic”) and NTP “reasonably anticipated,” aligning with the NTP profile.
https://www.cdc.gov/niosh/docs/2025-103/pdfs/2025-103.pdf cdc.gov