Through my armchair-physician research via Google, I’ve found that experts don’t really know what causes leukemia.  Granted, risk factors such as radiation and chemical exposure play a role, but according to the Mayo Clinic website, “most people with known risk factors don’t get leukemia. And many people with leukemia have none of these risk factors.”

In other words, it’s a total fluke that he developed leukemia.

Similar apparently unpredictable and unpreventable catastrophes – and the financial ruin they precipitated – were the focus of political advertisements leading up to the 2008 election. Anecdotal though they were, they still frightened me. So do the personal anecdotes of friends and acquaintances who’ve fallen victim to serious illness.

Jeneen Interlandi’s op-ed piece in Newsweek, “It’s Not My Fault: Why personal responsibility only goes so far in solving our health-care crisis”, makes some excellent points regarding the complexity of risk factors.  It’s not just a matter of eating well and exercising, but where you live (Near a toxic waste disposal site? Not good.), and how much you’ve learned and how much you earn (Higher education and higher income statistically translate to better health.).

But mostly her piece made me want to shake some sense, and some steamed broccoli, into her.  She begins by listing all the ways in which her lifestyle is thoroughly unhealthy, which should make her a prime candidate for serious illness, but hasn’t. Yet.

Interlandi’s penchant for pastries aside, she cites a recent WHO report (but no link to the source or other details*): “It’s the context of people’s lives that determines their health,” says a recent World Health Organization report on health disparities. “So blaming individuals for poor health or crediting them for good health is inappropriate.”

Really? Well, toss out my sneakers and pass me a Bloomin’ Onion!

Of course there are other factors – most notably, genetics and environment – that contribute to the likelihood that an individual will or won’t develop an illness.  But the idea that the control we do have over certain risk factors – most notably, what and how much we eat and our activity levels – isn’t worth exercising (pun intended) will only serve to further increase risks.  Acknowledging the role of these immutable factors shouldn’t absolve us of the responsibility to minimize the factors that we can.

Interlandi pays lip service to good health habits: “None of this is to say that we should absolve ourselves of all personal responsibility. Those of us who can afford to join a gym, see a doctor and eat healthier foods should do so.” But again, I find it hard to take her seriously when she already proudly proclaimed that she does none of these things.  She claims that “When we say that people fall ill because they eat too much, drink too much, work too much, or don’t sleep enough we are also saying that by not doing those things we can avoid the same fate. Blaming the individual gives us a sense of control over an uncertain future.”

I disagree. The corollary she posits is untrue, yes – not doing those things will not necessarily allow us to avoid illness. But pointing out valid potential causes of illness doesn’t imply that mitigating those causes eliminates the worst possible outcome. I may eat a hundred times as many vegetables as Interlandi and literally run circles around her, but I may still end up dying of cancer in five years while she goes on to celebrate triple-digit birthdays.  Does that mean I shouldn’t bother taking care of myself because it may not make a difference?  That’s ludicrous.

Do I blame those people who don’t bother taking care of themselves, even when they have the means to do so?  To some degree, I do.  It’s maddening to watch people knowingly delude themselves about their own bad habits and the impact of those habits.  On the other hand, it’s even more maddening to see people with good habits get sick.  If an elite athlete like Lance Armstrong can get cancer, who’s to say that amateur gym-goers are making a positive difference in their own health?

If I’m rushed to the hospital today myself and admitted to ICU, will I regret the time I spent exercising yesterday?  Will I wish I’d finished that bottle of wine and had an extra slice of bread, slathered in real butter?  Or will I chalk it up to chance, an unlucky roll of the dice that landed me in that bed instead of someone else?

No. I wouldn’t curse my good habits for letting me down.  I’d much rather know that I’d done all I could to maintain my health than figure that I’d gotten my just desserts.

Blame individuals for poor health, credit them for good health, or a combination of the two – what do you think?

*I’d like to read the surrounding context of the quote cited in the Newsweek piece, but I’ve searched on it and cannot find a link to the WHO report.

Being a spiritual nonbeliever, I should dismiss ghost stories out of hand.  But I can’t quite do that.

One of my favorite books is Spook: Science Tackles the Afterlife, by Mary Roach. (Her first book, Stiff: The Secret Life of Cadavers, is another one of my favorites.) Roach is a writer, not a scientist, but as she notes: “Flawed as it is, science remains the most solid god I’ve got.”

Spook explores a myriad of paranormal methods and claims, dating back centuries, from weighing souls to computer monitors suspended over hospital operating room tables.  In the book’s conclusion, Roach writes:

“…the most powerful influences upon your opinion about paranormal phenomena are your friends and family.  The closer you are to the teller of a ghost story, the more likely you are to believe that the ghost in the story was a ghost…”

I’ve been told two ghost stories that really do make me wonder.  I heard the first from a night guard at the Air Force Museum in Dayton, Ohio.

In college, our Air Force ROTC detachment often provided valet parking services at local events as a fundraiser.  That night, a dinner was held in the Modern Flight Gallery.  While we were waiting to for the event to end so that we could retrieve vehicles and collect tips, we explored the Air Power Gallery, which houses WWII-era aircraft and exhibits.

The guard told us of seeing the lights, suspended above on fixed rods, swinging back and forth.  He once stopped to look at the Glenn Miller exhibit, which plays “In the Mood” if you press a button, and as he was walking away, the music started up on its own.  He had also seen a small Asian boy standing near the nose of the “Bockscar” – the aircraft that dropped the atomic bomb on Nagasaki.

Other ghostly occurrences are reported in the Air Force Museum, including apparitions inside other aircraft such as the “Hopalong” (where the blood of a pilot killed in action still stains the seat) and the “Strawberry Bitch”, and moans from inside the “Black Mariah” (used for highly classified rescue missions).

Of course, I didn’t know the guard personally, and I expect he enjoyed having a captive audience of cadets.  Who knows how much of what he told us was second- or third-hand (or even further removed).

It’s the second ghost story that truly weighs on my mind.  It was told to me by my brother, who’s also a skeptic – and a hardcore badass who isn’t afraid of anything.

He was on Parris Island, South Carolina, nearing the end of his USMC basic training.  His platoon was away from their training area, spending the night at an ancient barracks.  Jeff was fire watch – the sentry on duty to patrol the barracks while the rest of the recruits slept.

As he tells it, he entered the head (bathroom), which was an L-shaped area.  He turned the corner and saw a man dressed in a WWI-era uniform.  Jeff stepped toward him and spoke up – “Hey!” – and the man disappeared.

Then all of the showers came on full blast.

Jeff bolted out of the head to the other side of the barracks, where he sat on the floor with his knees against his chest for the rest of the night.

He told me that story over fifteen years ago, and I still remember the details well.  Not because it was a particularly spooky or compelling ghost story in itself, but because he’s about the last person I’d ever expect to claim to have seen a ghost.

Even so, I’m still inclined toward disbelief.  I always thought I wouldn’t want to see a ghost, even if it meant that I’d know for sure – at least for myself – that they existed.  But since my grandmother died, I’ve wished many times that she would visit me.

When – no, if – she does, I’ll be sure to report it.  But I won’t expect anyone to believe me.

Do you believe in ghosts?