Statistics

“There are lies, damned lies, and statistics!” Mark Twain popularized the saying, which he attributed to Benjamin Disraeli, perhaps the most illustrious of England’s Victorian Era prime ministers. It’s an admonition that should be taken to heart when looking at cancer statistics, particularly survivability statistics.

Cancer stages typically run from 1 to 4, which can be summed up as: 1 (Bad), 2(Worse), 3 (Worst), and 4 (Oh hell no). My first brush with renal cancer was Bad; this one is Oh hell no. The five-year observed survival rate a year ago was 8 percent for the Oh hell no category, which sounds ominous. But here’s where the scourge of statistics raises its ugly head.

The 8 percent figure is from the National Cancer Data Base. It doesn’t take into account folks who, because renal cancer tends to affect older individuals, died of causes other than the cancer. Consequently, the percentage of people actually surviving cancer is likely to be higher.

UCLA uses an “integrated staging system” that looks at low- and high-risk groups within stages. For Oh hell no folks, five-year survival was noted as 8 percent only for the high-risk group, while the low-risk group had a five-year survival rate of 41 percent. That’s an enormous range. And there are so many variables that arriving at an actual number—a statistic—involves considerable guess work.

This alone should give anyone pause to question whether statistics is a reasonable lens to view one’s own experience—or likely future experience with the disease. Statistics sound scary until one looks beyond the numbers.

Add in another factor: time. Five-year survival statistics rely on cases of individuals who were diagnosed and began treatment (or didn’t) five years ago. Cancer research is a rapidly advancing field, and the manner of diagnosis, treatment protocols, and drugs available today, in many cases, weren’t the same five years ago or even two years ago. Survivability is increasing, even for dire diagnoses.

Finally, factor in the individual. Everyone responds differently to diseases and their treatment. Statistics are based on averages, not individuals.

I’ve worked to stop scaring myself with statistics. Every time the meteorologist says, “There’s a 50 percent chance of rain,” I remind myself that the flip side is, there’s also a 50 percent chance we won’t get rain.

I survived my first brush with renal cancer by 17 years; the other, earlier cancer by 22 years. I have been a cancer survivor far longer than I have ever been a cancer patient. So what I tell myself is this: Forget statistics. No one is ever merely a statistic.