My name is Frank. I’m a cancer survivor. I’m also living with cancer…
And unless there’s a miracle on the horizon or something else gets me first, I am likely to die from cancer in the not-too-distant future.
This blog is not a daily journal and not a place to find medical advice. It’s a window into the underworld of what it’s like to be a terminal cancer patient–shared in the hope that doing so might help patients, caregivers, family, and friends avoid so much unnecessary suffering.
(I hope, too, that medical professionals might lurk here and expand their view of what truly humane health care might become someday.)
But be prepared.
This is not going to be some feel-good pep talk with a happy ending.
It’s a story of physical pain and emotional distress… of countless needle sticks, biopsies, surgeries, and invasive procedures… of harsh medications, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments… of tests, tests, and more tests… of waiting, waiting, and more waiting… of false negatives and false positives… of unwelcome side effects, unexpected complications, and unpredicted crises.
It’s a story of never-ending anxiety… of difficult decisions and difficult conversations… of frustrations and disappointments, grief and loneliness, and precious time and energy lost forever.
Alas, it’s also a story of mindless and heartless bureaucracy, of insensitive things that people say and do.
It’s an ongoing saga of traumas and recoveries, endurance and reinvention.
But in the midst of all these challenges are stories of real-life angels, hope, and love… and sometimes even moments of pure and indescribable joy.
I don’t know how my journey will unfold, but I invite you to walk with me for a while–with the prayer that we can discover our courage, find some peace, and at the very least help each other to feel less alone.