Reaching toward the phone on my bedside table—a halfhearted effort to silence my alarm before it riles the cats further—I am reminded that today will be another spent in pain and discomfort.
To live, I must continue not to blink, lest the scythe of the reaper cut me down. So, I stare back. Unwavering. Stalwart. Tired, nonetheless.
The last time I wrote something, I shared that I was pursuing a clinical trial involving a chemotherapy pump that will deliver drugs straight...
Stepping into the late afternoon sun from the cancer centre, I can almost instantly feel my skin’s sensitivity to the heat. In the time...
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.
I can feel the cool breeze from the oscillating fan perched atop my dresser passing back and forth across my body. It feels as if I've stepped into a cool room after being outside on a hot day, the artificial wind kissing my damp skin. I'm having night sweats. Again.
Nine months ago, I wrote a reflection called Am I Just a Tourist? after thinking about my relationship with illness as it relates to...
It's been 365 days since a surgical resident stood over my masked up face awkwardly holding cutting instruments. Here's how things are going a year later.
An entire year has elapsed since I was diagnosed with colon cancer. The cancer experience is esoteric in nature. Only so much can be conveyed through storytelling and art, but I will do my best to share why this day is not a joyous one for me.
With 2022 coming to a close, I'm feeling reflective. It's difficult to paint a picture of the year's ups and downs. I can only liken the year to a sine wave; my level of enjoyment rising and crashing as the complexities of cancer ebbed and flowed. The frequency shifting—sometimes hourly—as the year progressed. But life itself tends to be unpredictable, anyways, doesn't it?