Title: The Emperor of All
Maladies – A Biography of Cancer
Author: Siddhartha Mukherjee
Publisher: Fourth
Estate, 2011 (First)
ISBN: 978-0-00-742805-2
Pages: 470
Cancer – No other word terrorizes
humanity harder than that. Often late to correctly diagnose, it snuffs life out
of healthy individuals in the blink of an eye and drives the survivors into a
lifetime of sorrow and misery. Though the disease was around and recognized for
millennia, it was only after the Second World War that effective treatment
regimen started to appear in the form of chemotherapy at first. Dr. Siddhartha
Mukherjee, the author, is the right person to describe the biography of the
dreaded disease, as he is a cancer physician and researcher. He is a Rhodes
Scholar, and is now assistant professor of medicine at Columbia University and
practices at the CU/NYU Presbyterian Hospital. He has published articles in Nature,
The New England Journal of Medicine and The New Republic. The germ
of the book was sown in him during his tenure as a post-doctoral fellow of
oncology at the Massachusetts General Hospital – the legendary hospital where
anesthesia was invented in 1846 and the centre of activity of many fictional
medical thrillers. During the course of
his work, Dr. Mukherjee came across several patients who inexorably marched
towards their deaths while the medical establishment stood silently by the
wayside – in the full realization that nothing could be done to save those
lives, except providing palliative care. This book is a noted one of its genre
and has bagged several distinctions, including the Pulitzer Prize for
non-fiction in 2011, and I’m sure the honours list won’t end with it.
Those people who blame modern
lifestyle changes to the increased incidence of cancer may do well to remember
that the dreaded disease is in fact very ancient. Imhotep, an ancient Egyptian
physician who lived around 2650 BCE, records breast cancer with a comment that
there was no available cure. Herodotus, the ancient Greek historian, narrates
the case of Atossa, Persian queen and wife of the mighty emperor, Darius. She
too developed breast cancer which was surgically removed by a Greek slave,
Democedes. A grateful Atossa prompted her husband to turn his next aggressive
campaign to the west instead of the east – to Greece – so that the homesick
slave could return to his homeland. The resultant Graeco-Persian was a pivotal
moment in world history – in fact, we may safely contend that the moment
moulded the course of future history from then on, resulting in the fall of
Persia and the campaigns of Alexander the Great. Thus, cancer, even as a
clandestine illness, left its fingerprints on the ancient world. The incidence
of cancer seems to have increased over the ages, because most of them affect us
as we grow old. For a 30-year old woman to develop breast cancer, the odds are
1 in 400, whereas for a 70-year old, it is 1 in 9. So, along with growth in
life expectancy, incidence of cancer increased, coinciding also with receding
of other killers such as tuberculosis, small-pox, and plague. Advanced early
detection techniques also contribute to the statistics of increased incidence.
It was in the time of Hippocrates,
around 400 BCE, that a word for cancer first appeared in literature: karkinos,
from the Greek word for ‘crab’. The tumour, with swollen blood vessels around
it might have reminded Hippocrates of a crab dug in the sand with its legs
spread in a circle. Another Greek word, onkos, which meant ‘a mass’,
‘load’, or ‘burden’, made an appearance. Onkos, or cancer was
imagined to be a burden carried by the body, from which the discipline of
oncology would take its modern name. The medieval dark ages remained dark for
medicine too, and only with the Renaissance do we witness further improvements.
Breakthroughs like anesthesia (1846) and antisepsis (1867) caused a
proliferation of surgical procedures.
Cancer comes in diverse forms –
breast, stomach, skin, leukemias and lymphomas. Of all these, blood cancer
(leukemia) has captured the nervous attention of a whole generation of
playwrights and writers of every sort to make an impression on the public mind
that it is uncurable. Leukemia, which is the uncontrolled growth of white blood
cells, was identified in 1850s by the German researcher Rudolph Virchow, who
coined the term leukemia from the Greek leukos, meaning ‘white’. World
War II was a watershed moment in the history of technology, as well as
medicine. Just prior to the war, the cure for cancer consisted of one of two
things, excising the tumour surgically or incinerating it with radiation – a
choice between the hot ray and the cold knife! By 1940, it was sadly, yet
widely acknowledged that therapeutics against cancer was at a dead end.
Something revolutionary needed to come up.
And the revolutionary thing indeed
turn up, in a quite unexpected quarter. Though professing otherwise, both the
warring sides in the World War employed chemical warfare on their enemies. Of
all the chemicals used, nothing was more fearsome or devastating as mustard
gas. It killed immediately and the survivors were forced to lead miserable
lives owing to complications like chronic anemia. Researchers detected that the
poison gas destroyed white blood cells (WBC) in survivors and surmised that it
could form a part of an effective treatment against leukemia (which increased
white cell count) in controlled doses. In the meantime, Sydney Farber, an
American physician was wondering in 1947 whether he could control the
pathological growth of WBC, using a chemical. Folic acid, was found to cause
growth of WBC in anemic people, so Farber argued that if he could lay hands on
an anti-folate (a chemical which works in a diametrically opposite way
than folic acid), it could be used as medicine for leukemic patients. He
eventually came across such a chemical structurally similar to folic acid,
called aminopterin, which he first tried on a child suffering from acute
lymphoblastic leukemia, with good results. The age of chemotherapy was born!
However, in most cases, the remission was only temporary with the patient
relapsing irrevocably to recurred illness, which was resistant to further
chemotherapy. The cancer also travelled to other parts of the body, like the
lungs, liver, brain and bone marrow, which is called metastasis. Researchers
struggled hard to find a wayout and they were finally rewarded – using multiple
drugs in combination, a fixed percentage of cancerous cells would be
obliterated. Repeating the course several times, the percentage of abnormal
cells would be reduced to near zero.
However, the chemicals used as
drugs in chemotherapy were cytotoxic (damaging to the cells), which destroyed
healthy cells as well as the cancerous. The body reeled under the heavy doses
of drugs, with severe side effects, one of them being leukemia itself, at a
later stage. There was no way to distinguish the tumorous cells. The birth of
linear accelerators in physics labs during the 1960s helped to incorporate that
also in the war against cancer, in the form of extended-field radiation.
Clinical trials helped modify or discard established procedures too. Radical
mastectomy, the surgical removal of large parts of the chest was the common
procedure for breast cancer at that time, till it was challenged by feminist
groups and innovative surgeons. A trial which lasted 10 years conclusively
proved that the radical one was not fundamentally different in efficacy from
simpler, less invasive procedures.
Relapse of the disease, after a
brief remission, was a nagging problem for chemotherapy. Patients returned with
metastasized cancer, often ending up in brain. The malignant cells somehow
crossed the blood-brain barrier, which stopped the chemicals. Attempts to
transport the drugs directly to brain via cerebro-spinal fluid through spine
taps were also not promising. It was around 1970s that the importance of
prevention dawned upon the researchers. Lung cancer is highly preventable, if
the afflicted stayed away from tobacco smoking. Concerted legal and public
awareness campaigns helped to bring the tobacco industry to heel. They
acknowledged the risks tobacco posed to public health and were forced to print
warning labels on cigarette packs. Development of pap smear test for cervical
cancer and mammography for breast cancers opened a window of screening, but
none of them reached the level satisfactory to pronounce as such.
Knowledge of cancer biology
improved drastically after 1980s. Cancer is the uncontrolled growth of normal
body cells caused by mutations picked up genetically or environmentally by the
normal genes. The genetic mechanism consist of two ways – to enable growth and
to control growth after maturity of the cell is reached. Oncogenes, which are
mutated growth genes contribute to unbridled growth, just like a jammed
accelerator in a car. On the other hand, inactivity in the control genes also
fail to stop growth, just like a non-functional brake in an automobile.
Developments in recombinant DNA technology and genetic engineering helped
device new drugs which could hook on to aberrant proteins at the molecular
level and keep them under harness. Herceptin was the first such drug, but the
wonder drug turned out to be Gleevec, which became a panacea for chronic
myeloid leukemia (CML), a rare form of cancer. This medicine removed all traces
of pathogens and enabled patients to continue their lives for decades. But,
molecular medicine carries its own risks too. The cancer gets immune to the
drug by accumulating mutations again. The race against it cannot be static –
there is not a dull moment in researchers’ attempts to fight cancer.
The book is a comprehensive
history of cancer, reaching out to the dawn of history to the latest
developments in genetic drugs. It is also a history of the medical profession,
beautifully unveiling the troubled pathways it traveled to possess the glowing
feathers it carries now in its diadem. Using an eclectic mix of science and
history, Mukherjee produces a long-awaited delicacy in the feast of medical
books. The description is clear and lucid, attractive even to lay readers. The
handling of the subject is so professional that this book should adorn the
shelves of every medical practitioner, as well as serious admirers of the
popular science genre. Insightful comments and dispassionate narrative brings
out objective truths in the cold light of reason. It is interesting to note
that chemotherapy is like beating the dog with a stick to get rid of his
fleas! The book ends with hope, but not with much enthusiasm for a cure in
the near future.
The book would have done well with
a neat glossary, especially since it juggles a lot of medical terms. Perhaps
future editions would surely attend to this shortfall. The volume is a bit
bulky too, with 470 pages. The readers don’t glide as smoothly with the author
after the first 100 pages. The remaining parts are more interesting to medical
practitioners than other readers. Also, some of the trial results presented as
proof of argument don’t seem to be statistically significant. The study which
analysed the death rate due to lung cancer in smokers is an example. Out of 789
deaths a trial group, 36 deaths were due to lung cancer and all of them were
smokers. Mukherjee then asserts, “The trial designed to bring the most
rigorous statistical analysis to the cause of lung cancer barely required
elementary mathematics to prove its point” (p.249). There is no disputing
the fact that smoking causes lung cancer, but doctor, the mathematics involved
here may not be as elementary as you think. The conclusion must depend on the
ratio of smokers to the total population. If it is so high as Dr. Mukherjee
himself claims in a previous page, “in some parts of the world, nearly 9 out
of 10 men were smoking cigarettes” (p.241), the result proves nothing. If
smokers constitute 90% of the population, it is quite probable that out of the
36 dead, all of them were smokers. We could have also argued that all of them
were right-handers as if right-handedness was a cause for premature death.
A really good work. The book is
highly recommended.
Rating: 3 Star
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