For What It's Worth
We hear the word every day and maybe you have to deal with it on a daily basis. The word is cancer.
The disease has likely touched each one of us in one way or another. For instance, my mother’s habit for cigarette smoking led to her passing early due to lung cancer.
I have not had to deal personally with cancer... yet. However I do take preventative steps to lower my risk. As a curious teenager, I tried mom’s cigarettes but never liked them, so smoking failed to become an addiction it still is for many Americans.
Colon cancer is one of the most treatable forms of the disease, if diagnosed early enough. For that reason, I have undergone two colonoscopies over the years on my doctor’s advice. Small polyps have been discovered, but they were very small, were removed and were non-cancerous. I’m due for another visit in the next 2-4 years. It’s something I don’t look forward to, but I know it’s an important procedure to prevent something more serious from happening.
Cancer is a word that provides a distinct, heavy solemnity when a doctor utters those words, It is a diagnosis that instantly divides a life into two distinct chapters: before and after.
Statistically, it is a moment that an unprecedented number of Americans are facing. For the first time in history, annual cancer diagnoses in the United States are projected to surpass the two million mark--averaging roughly 5,800 new cases every single day.
Yet, the national narrative surrounding this disease is a paradox. At the macro level, we are winning critical territory. The national cancer death rate has plummeted by 34 percent since 1991, an achievement translating to roughly 4.8 million lives saved through groundbreaking therapies and earlier detection. The five-year relative survival rate across all malignancies has climbed to an all-time high of 70 percent.
But figures viewed from 30,000 feet often blur the sharper, more painful realities on the ground. When you narrow the focus to Mississippi, the data ceases to be a story of national triumph and becomes a stark call to action.
In the Magnolia State, cancer remains the second-leading cause of death, claiming more than 6,700 Mississippians annually and generating upward of 17,000 new cases each year. Our state’s age-adjusted all-cancer mortality rate sits at 179.8 deaths per 100,000 people. That is a staggering 23 percent higher than the national average of 146 per 100,000.
The disparities deepen when looking at gender and geography. Mississippi men suffer a cancer mortality rate that is 50 percent higher than Mississippi women. Nowhere is this health crisis more evident than in our struggle with lung cancer.
According to recent data from the American Lung Association, Mississippi ranks 49th out of 51 states and the District of Columbia for the rate of new lung cancer cases. Compounding the issue, we rank 46th in the nation for high smoking rates, yet only 14.8 percent of high-risk residents are receiving the recommended low-dose CT screenings that catch the disease when it is most treatable.
Furthermore, geography dictates destiny all too often in our state. The Delta Regional Coalition area—historically burdened by a lack of healthcare infrastructure and systemic socioeconomic barriers—sees an all-cancer mortality rate of 199.9 per 100,000. That is 17.1 percent higher than the Central Coalition Region of the state. Within those numbers lies an intersection of racial and geographic inequality: African Americans living in the rural Delta face a cancer mortality rate 13 percent higher than African Americans living in non-Delta areas of Mississippi.
It is easy to look at these numbers and feel a sense of profound helplessness. The oncology gap in Mississippi is deeply rooted in poverty, rural isolation, and a historical shortage of local preventative care. Public health experts estimate that approximately 60 percent of all cancers are preventable, with roughly one-third of cancer deaths tied directly to modifiable factors like tobacco use, diet, and physical inactivity. Bridging Mississippi’s 23 percent mortality gap with the rest of the country relies less on waiting for a miracle cure in a distant laboratory and more on improving local healthcare access, aggressive public screening campaigns, and community resolve.
That is precisely why grassroots, community-driven efforts matter so deeply. We cannot rewrite federal healthcare policy overnight, but we can support the frontline infrastructure that funds research, provides transport for chemotherapy patients, and keeps the light of awareness burning.
On Friday, June 5, we have an opportunity to turn statistics into action. The annual Marshall County Relay for Life will bring together neighbors, caregivers, and survivors at the Eddie L. Smith Multi-Purpose Building in Holly Springs.
The local Relay has served as a powerful testament to the resilience of our community. It is an event where the abstractions of medical data meet human faces. We see it in the teams from local churches, businesses, and civic organizations who have spent months fundraising to ensure the American Cancer Society can continue providing a 24/7 helpline and funding breakthrough clinical trials.
The theme for the event is “Together We Can Tackle Cancer.” There will be entertainment, team competitions, a DJ, and the event will be climaxed by a Luminaria ceremony. Participants are asked to bring a canned goods item with them for a donation to the food pantry in Holly Springs and Byhalia.
We will be taking a collective stand against a disease that has touched nearly every family in Marshall County. Mississippi’s cancer burden is uniquely heavy, but the resolve of its people is heavier still. By showing up, remembering those we have lost, and funding the fight for future generations, we prove that even in the face of the starkest statistics, hope does not look back.
That’s what I have for now… for what it’s worth.
Bob Bakken is Editor of the South Reporter.