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Are We Fighting Cancer Wrong? A Look at Our Shrinking Microbiome

Cancer surrounds us, and the numbers hit hard—over 1.9 million new cases in the U.S. last year, with no slowdown in sight. I’ve lost someone I loved to this disease, and I know that ache echoes in so many hearts. It’s scary, personal, and leaves us grasping for answers. We throw everything at it—chemo, radiation, even alternatives like fenbendazole and ivermectin. I’m not against any of these; cancer’s brutal, and people have to choose what feels right for them.

But I’ve been wondering—what if we’re missing the bigger picture? What if health isn’t just about battling cancer after it appears, but understanding why it grows inside us? Why are the stats climbing while our microbiome—those trillions of microbes driving 75% or more of our immune system—keeps shrinking? Is that just a coincidence? We’re learning we’re more microbe than human DNA—could that be a clue?

Take fenbendazole and ivermectin. These drugs, originally for parasites—one a dewormer, the other an antiparasitic—have a following in alternative health circles. People say they’ve seen tumors shrink, and there’s some research to ponder: fenbendazole might disrupt cancer cell division, like in studies with resistant colorectal cancer cells, and ivermectin could slow tumor growth and boost immunity, as seen in breast cancer models.

It’s not all talk—there’s science there. But for humans, proof is thin. Big trials are missing, and some have harmed their livers chasing these ideas online. Cancer Research UK says it’s not enough to call them a cure. Yet the approach mirrors chemo and radiation: target the enemy—cancer cells, microbes, parasites—and wipe it out. The intention’s the same—a war on cancer. The results align too, and so does the outcome for our microbiome. It’s a war on the body, and those microbes, that 75% of our immunity, take the hit.

That’s what keeps me thinking. Chemo and radiation attack cancer, no question, but they don’t spare the rest of us—our microbiome gets battered. That imbalance, called dysbiosis, makes healing harder for patients. Fenbendazole and ivermectin, with their broad-spectrum punch, likely do the same. Even natural options—herbs or antifungals from holistic corners—often aim to kill off “bad” bugs. It’s all about fighting, whether with chemicals or plants. The war’s the same, and our microbiome pays the price. We’re more microbe than human DNA, science says—trillions of them outnumbering our own cells. If that’s true, why are we so quick to blast them when they’re 75% of what keeps us strong?

What if cancer isn’t just rogue cells or invaders? What if it’s about what’s gone missing? Our microbiome’s fading—antibiotics, processed food, modern life—and studies show we’ve got 30-40% less diversity than our ancestors. That matters when 75% or more of our immunity rides on those microbes. Evidence keeps growing: low gut diversity ties to colorectal cancer, imbalanced microbes stoke inflammation that feeds tumors, and a weak microbiome might let cancer sneak by our defenses. Helicobacter pylori links to stomach cancer, certain E. coli to colon cancer. It’s not the full story—genes and environment play roles—but it’s a thread worth pulling. As cancer cases rise, our microbial world shrinks. Are we fighting the wrong fight?

So what’s health, really, if we look at it differently? Not just reacting to cancer, but keeping it from starting? If our microbiome’s key—and we’re more microbe than human—maybe we should nurture it. Research hints at how: a healthy gut boosts immunotherapy, like fecal transplants aiding melanoma patients. Probiotics and prebiotics—good bacteria and their fuel, like inulin—might calm inflammation and slow tumors. Any treatment works better with a balanced microbiome, easing side effects like brain fog or heart strain. We could eat plants, fermented foods like kefir or kimchi, cut antibiotics when we can. Fecal transplants exist, though they’re rare and really accessible to many of us (yet) and scientists dream of reviving ancient microbes. It’s not a cure—everyone’s unique, and some losses can’t be undone—but it’s a thought.

I don’t have solutions. I wish I did! Cancer’s terrifying, and when it strikes, you act—chemo, fenbendazole, whatever brings hope. I’ve felt that desperation. But with so many touched by this, and numbers growing, I think we need bigger questions. Why does cancer grow inside us? Why’s it rising as our microbiome fades? If we’re more microbe than human, and health hinges on that 75% of our immunity, maybe it’s less about war—chemicals, alternatives, naturals—and more about rebuilding what keeps us whole. This is just something to wonder about. What do you think—could we be seeing this wrong?

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