I just read on MSN.com that Patrick Swayze had been admitted to a hospital with possible pneumonia. The story talked about his courage and inspiration, plus his fear and anger over the battle with cancer expressed in his recent Barbara Walters interview.
He admitted to 'why me?' moments.
Well, it's terrible that he's fighting cancer. And it's horrible that someone his age has had to face such a devastating prognosis. (Not to mention that if he loses his battle, we'll have to forever pout that they never managed to do that Dirty Dancing
But in his interview with Walters, Swayze also admitted to being a smoker and to *still* smoking, even with the treatment and lowered immune system.
Let me just say this. With my lousy lungs, I would kill myself if I smoked for a month; and the people I know who are either cancer survivors or currently and chronically fighting versions of the disease would never dream of touching a cigarette. They have to avoid their grandkids when there's a runny nose and try to limit their grocery shopping during flu season.
Maybe Patrick Swayze just figures 'what the fuck' since he's going to die anyway. He's got a sorta Han Solo attitude. Cancer looms like Darth Vadar over our lives, snorting at our puny blasters and home made light sabres, chuckling while doctors, scientists and the media lecture us about how we can defend ourselves with certain behavior, with how we eat, recreate and even breathe ~ like there's an illusive and mystical Force that might somehow make us just a little safer. The truth is Vadar can take us down whenever he wants, whether we live earnest, Skywalker lives or choose to emulate the devil-may-care dufus who hoovers nicotine and asbestos and clogs his colon with animal fat and cranberries.
It seems to be a cosmic crap shoot.
Still, we don't have fly the Millenium Falcon right up his ass of the Deathstar, do we?