Cancerland should require passports, visas, and planning. Its a strange world of different cultures, languages, and mystery. The never ending wait until the next scan, procedure, adventure. We'll wait and see what the next tests show and then decide on the next steps. I have tried to describe it before but never come close. This is the absolute best description of life in cancerland in the hospital I have seen:
"At diagnosis, incomprehensible words resound — HER2-positive, stromal, non-small cell, BRAF, astrocytoma, myeloma, lymphoma, sarcoma—
followed by equally baffling prescriptions of drugs that have two
names. Hours are badly spent waiting in interior reception areas, near
stunned people in wheelchairs and dazed fish aimlessly swimming in a
tank beneath a television (perpetually tuned on to a dismal news
After a bed is assigned for some necessary procedure, most slip on
skimpy robes — the snap type impossible to snap, the tie type impossible
to tie. Why are they constructed so as to gape and expose the naked
front or back without providing warmth against the polar climate? "
Read the whole thing here and then you might have a clue if you have never been there.
This is what life in cancerland while at the hospital. The problem is you never really get to leave it once treatment ends.
I have lots of aches and pain. This is a proven fact. You can ask any of my doctors. And I am also a klutz. And I have the battle scars to p...
As part of the universal pinkification of October, Good Housekeeping magazine has a section on breast cancer (who knew?). But one thing they...
Okay, I am done. I do not care what about any more news about what can or can't cause breast cancer. I am done. The latest info is that ...
About a year ago, I met a young woman who had had cancer since age 18 when she was diagnosed with an inherited pancreatic cancer. She had ne...