Saturday, February 28, 2015
Friday, February 27, 2015
In December, I traveled to Washington, D.C., and had a pleasant visit with a friend I hadn’t seen in several months. I drank a lemonade while we filled each other in on the latest news, hair styles, and our holiday festivities. Between sips I gave her my arm. She took my blood, and then injected me with an experimental cancer vaccine. [Record scratch.]
Okay, so the friend was a research nurse, and our meeting place was Sibley Memorial Hospital, where I’m participating in an immunotherapy clinical trial for a vaccine to prevent my breast cancer from recurring.Read the rest here.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
It's World Cancer Day, guys.
When you're a patient, it's easy to lose perspective on the fact that cancer is a global issue. Your world becomes so, so tiny. Your life is measured out if not in coffee spoons, then prescription bottles.
During my treatment, when I was inexplicably taking public transit to work every day, I would often be very frustrated by the fact that I almost never got a seat on the subway. Then, toward the end of chemo, I read this article about a Haitian woman who traveled hours and hours by bus just to get to her chemo treatments. Her neighbors scoffed at her: "You're just going to die anyway," they said.
It can be hard to remember that you are lucky when your hair is falling out, but you are. I was.
This isn't about "oh, things could be so much worse." Because, obviously. Things can always be worse. They don't have to be the worst to be bad. It is just about remembering, not just where things are harder for you than for other people, but where things are softer, too.
Always be kind, loves.