Note: This will be most useful to folks with an iPhone, though there are some Android tools listed as well. Quite unapologetically, I am...
Living with cancer is like burning a candle at both ends. One wick is the gentle fire of life. As it melts away the...
The last time I wrote something, I shared that I was pursuing a clinical trial involving a chemotherapy pump that will deliver drugs straight...
Throughout my experience with cancer, which spans a decade to days gone by when my mother was staring down her disease, I've had to find ways to keep moving forward through some of the most difficult days of my life. The path is often challenging and surefootedness is never a guarantee. There are detours, unexpected water features, and shoe-sucking muck. It's never known what lies ahead, even if you're somewhere you've been before.
If you've never been to a cancer centre, I hope that your streak of luck continues. It's not that the experience is bad, it's just that it's always interesting.
Once again it's that time of year where friends, family, and colleagues get together to celebrate the holidays, imbibing in such abominations as eggnog and snacking down on abhorrent recipes of fruitcake.
I was diagnosed with stage IIIC colon cancer as an elder millennial—thirty-four when I received the news—and facing my mortality so directly was not something I'd ever done before.
October 1st marked the beginning of breast cancer awareness month. Believe it or not, this also marks a very divisive time in the breast cancer community. As a result of all of the pink ribbon campaigns, there's a real sense that the pinkwashing of an extremely deadly disease undermines the severity of breast cancer. Metastatic breast cancer always kills.
This past weekend, I had the privilege and honour of attending Man Up to Cancer's inaugural Gathering of Wolves in Delevan, New York. It was a sacred and special event for so many reasons, but being able to be a part of the first one is an experience that I will never forget. Around sixty men, spanning countries, ages, and types of cancer came together to share our experiences, swap stories, and finally meet each other face to face after all of the Zoom calls, private chats, and Facebook interactions we've had with one another. The profound, transcendent effect this will have on my life is indescribable, but I'll do my best to give a taste.
I've been reflecting a lot on a powerful quote from author Susan Sontag. It may be familiar to some, but it's especially fitting as someone who's going through a cancer diagnosis (as she was when she penned it). "Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. Although we all prefer to use the good passport, sooner or later each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place." Will I get back home? Susan Sontag, from Illness as a Metaphor