In 2010 while living in Buenos Aires, I was diagnosed with stage IV colorectal cancer. After spending what money I had and selling everything to get treated in the private system, I had to rely on public health care in Argentina, which is open to everyone. These are the posts I wrote during and after treatment. I did not talk to cancer, nor did I win any sort of battle against cancer. From my perspective now, my survival seems to have resulted from a combination of dumb luck, stubbornness, and charity from surprising sources. I also had sex a couple times and got robbed.
Juanele AR hosts a monthly spoken word event sponsored and organized by Second Story. Last night the theme was The End of the Road. I read, and I think I read well, but the effect on me was devastating. Second Story founder Kate Sedgwick will be working on a podcast but I think I’m going …
I read at Second Story’s last event which theme was The End of the Road. I divided the piece into several parts and separated them with a punto. I also taped up one of my X-Rays on the podium. This is the first section. I’ll be posting them all in succession, at Claire’s request. “If …
Having clambered out of the ambulance, Claire and I entered the hospital and made our way down a dark corridor not knowing where we were going. We arrived in another corridor, full of people, people who were dressed in very bright clothing, or so my drugged-up eyeballs showed me. A super-cute boy leaned up against …
Prayer is for the living. So that they can forget the dead. So they can forget death. So they can forget that, like everyone else, they’re dying. Through Andrew Sullivan’s blog I discovered a Facebook page called “Pray for these two Arrogant White People One of Whom has a brain tumor.” It wasn’t really called …
In the green-gray gauzy hour just after dawn, the hospital is as quiet as it will ever be. And I’m always awake, watching the breath of this old building puff the curtains up silently away from the sill so I can see the palm fronds flicker in the breeze. The mosquitos dance just outside the …
I don’t remember how I got to intensive care. I wish I had. Getting there sounded like fun. Claire told me later she had thought I had been awake, more or less, and that they had transported me in what could only be described as a golf cart. (Much later, I rode it to… well, …
I’ve changed hospitals from Rivadavia to Marie Curie. MC focuses on oncology. These photos were taken by Kate Sedgwick the day I discovered that there’s an 18 mm nodule in my liver which will require surgery to remove. I will have to have an MRI before that happens, however, An MRI here costs ARS $2100, or …
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