Tonight about 7:00 after chemo, I fell asleep leaning back in the driver’s seat of my Mini in the car park adjacent to Stanford South Bay Cancer Center. A deep, unpredicted snooze just after my second to last Taxol infusion. * Apparently, I’m deathly allergic to yucca, the tree Taxol is extracted from, and I… Read More Euphonious Cancer
This poem, though inspired by some disease that requires I become prostrate to the big grayish pallor of the gaping mouths of machines, represents otherwise the first of several metastatic nods to national poetry month. And, understandably very much inspired by my own internal struggles: doubts in the treatments, one that causes chemo brain, causes degradation of my body, causes me to want to seek out other therapies. … Read More PET Scans and Other Acronyms
On the precipice of my fifth year of living with, not dying from metastatic cancer, I regard my life as a lucky one. No crazed busses have hit me, no falling airplane debris bonked me on the head, no Acme holes swallowed me up (a la Wile E. Coyote trying to capture the turbocharged Road… Read More Metastatically “Normal”: new, used or unrealistic?
Ah, we meet again. You ugly, humorless, blood draining, fanged daemon from hell. You were born from a mother whose name started with Cancer. You picked up the baton and since the beginning of man-time you beat people to death, and remain uncured of the evil you’ve successfully spread. Not one holiday goes by unscathed… Read More Thanksgiving at the House of Horrors Starring Canferatu and his brother Cancula