Can't Find My Way Home

I know I’m one lucky fellow, having enjoyed nearly eight years of “no evidence of disease” status. Nevertheless, I’ve grown quite weary of being an “at-risk” and closely monitored melanoma survivor who will never hear the words “you’re cured”. I try to keep reminding myself, however, that this beats the only known alternative, as there seems to be but one exit door at the Hotel Melanoma.

It’s not that I dislike the medical profession. Docs and other health care professionals have taken great care of me, and the vast majority of them are truly nice people to boot. It’s just that I’m tired of people messing with my old carcass and am burned out on jousting with health insurance companies. Lucky for me, my oncology posse is not prone to practicing defensive medicine and ordering a lot of tests and scans out of an abundance of caution, despite the fact I’m known to be a recovering attorney. So if I show up to a checkup with no complaints and I present no symptoms of concern discernible from a physical examination, they’ll most likely send me on my merry way without ordering any further diagnostic procedures. Otherwise, by now I’d be screaming “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE”!

I’ll end today’s rant with a new version of Steve Winwood’s “Can’t Find My Way Home”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT-SFgkVlno


Turn over no stones
And leave my body alone
’til something shows change
Big C’s the reason
They've been checking so long
Nobody knows I’m free
Well, I'm round the bend and I just ain't got the time
Well, I'm wasted and I can't find my way home

Turn over no stones
And leave my body alone
’til something shows change
Big C’s the reason
They’ve been checking all these years
No CT shows I’m free
Well, I'm round the bend and I just ain't got the time
Well, I'm wasted and I can't find my way home

But I can't find my way home
But I can't find my way home
But I can't find my way home
But I can't find my way home
Still, I can't find my way home
And, I ain't got nothing wrong
But, I can't find my way home