When I was younger, decades ago, I think I wrote things in my mind, or in poems. Since word processing came into my life 25 years ago, I've actually written many/most of the things I felt I had to write. Some have been posted or printed and seen by others. Most, not. Nor do they exist any more. I just felt I had to write them then, I HAD to know what I really thought or what I really felt and this is the way I discover that -- often late at night, cigarrette in one hand, cuba libre in the other.
You know something I never knew until now? If you want to maximize your chances for throat cancer, drink and smoke, especially at the same time. I knew about the smoking. And that the drinking wasn't good for your liver. But that by doing both you could increase your chances of throat cancer by an order of magnitude or more over simply smoking -- that I had no clue.
And I'm writing this for my friend Katie in New York who made my heart soar like an eagle by putting three words on my facebook page. She would probably be the sort of person who in this situation would want to know --indeed, by now would know-- everything there is to be known about this affliction. I am not.
This blog I started right after I got the news, two weeks ago. At first I was going to post it under a made-up name. Protect my privacy, I said. Think of the kids -- do I want Luke or Carmen reading this?
I created the account, wrote the first posts with preferences set so only I could see them. But I couldn't do it. I don't want to sound melodramatic, but I couldn't write about whether I would live or die -- or rather how I am living now that I know I may be dying -- under another name. I have nothing against people using pseudonyms, even, or perhaps especially, when talking about very personal things.
But this isn't about ethics and privacy in the internet age's blogosphere, but about what someone who grew up with black and white TV --on both channels-- is doing to try to keep sane while trying to get healthy.
There is a song from the "Kyle XY" TV show that for some reason I love: she could be you.
She could be you. But not this time. It had to be me.
1 comment:
Jose, When my best friend was suffering from pancreatic cancer, I discovered a chat room on the Johns Hopkins website full of people either suffering from or taking care of people suffering from the disease. There was a lot of practical information, discussion about the goods and bads of various chemos/radios, and, of course, just a lot of emoting. I am sure something analagous exists for your cancer.
My friend could not handle checking this out, so I did it for him. I note that you say you're not one of those people who want to know everything about your cancer. Well and good, but how about finding someone you trust to do that for you? I think it wold be very valuable to you to have someone totally and completely on your side doing the scientific research to find out what's what, find out what other people on various chemo/radio systems have to say about them, and so forth. This is kinda rocket science, but any former comrade or motivated college graduate ought to have the chops to figure it out. Also, I note that since you are alone companionwise, you didn't mention having someone in the room with you when you talk to your doctor. Also a VERY GOOD idea. You will probably just not be able to think of everything by yourself. You are, after all, involved, and it is hard to muster the objectivity required to think of all the questions, question the answers, and so forth.
If you need any kind of help that can be done long range I would be happy to assist you in any way I can.
It's an older book, but I recommend you read the section on cancer in "How We Die" by Sherman Nuland. Not happy shit, of course, but someone in your position might profit from it.
David McDonald
206-963-7713
dbmcdonald@comcast.net
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