As Anna sat in her car on the highroad and watched the hundred-year-old trees pass overhead — a slight buckling of discomfort came from her engine. The thought crossed her mind, perhaps I should get that checked out before it gets worse.
Her car was not known for lasting this long before needing maintenance. Meanwhile, inside the family home her car ambled closer and closer to, her mother was developing a type of skin cancer called malignant myeloma, and had been for the last two years. No one knew.
Not even six months later, Anna drove her fixed up automobile to the hospital and sat in the waiting room, only to be told by a doctor that her mother’s cancer was simply hereditary, inoperable, and that it would take a miracle for her mother to survive. The doctor offered his sincere condolences, as her mother was only 58 years old.
Now Anna touches her stomach every day, fearing that same cancer is on some kind of collision course with her in the not too distant future.
But she doesn’t have to feel this way. The truth is, we live in an age of sick-care, and not preventative care.
As she gazes out the window, wondering how things could have played differently — her car sits parked in the driveway, ready to be taken to a mechanic whenever she thinks a problem may arise.
Why don’t we treat our bodies the same way — to prevent disease before it happens?