Introduction

The "Hotel Melanoma" moniker is a metaphor for living with my particular brand of cancer. Except for those lucky few of us deemed "cured", all we cancer survivors are guests of one of the many, many branded hotels in the "Hotel Carcinoma" chain. We can check out any time we like, but we can never leave. Meanwhile, let's be livin' it up; and please support cancer education, prevention, and treatment research.



Tutu Brothers

Saturday, March 31, 2012

It's Justin Bieber Time!

So very, very NOT.

Over the past year or so, I’ve been fortunate to stumble onto a warm and supportive community of great folks who’ve also had the misfortune of checking into the Hotel Melanoma. With gratitude for all of you, here’s a favorite of mine from John “Cougar” Mellencamp’s American Fools album, “Hand To Hold On To”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EM2h0KEK-hs


You can laugh and joke and have fun with mole friends
Find them at midnight when your troubles begin
Take it nice and easy and never pretend
That you're cool, so cool, so cool

Never alone when C’s wild and it will not be tamed
Post when you hurt with a medicated brain
Be an old fool drivin' the onc boys insane
Be a joker, a teacher, it does not matter

Every one needs a hand to hold on to
Every one had some tans they held on to
Don't need to be no strong hand
Don't need to be no rich hand
Every one just needs a hand to hold on to

Havin' bad luck with your biopsy situation
Pink’s for phonies, be resident of black cancer nation
Get to work and be a chemo trial stud
Drive that IV jive right into your blood, yeah

Every one needs a hand to hold on to
Every one had some tans they held on to
Don't need to be no strong hand
Don't need to be no rich hand
Every one just needs a hand to hold on to

And then those hours when you're alone
And there's no body there except yourself
I know it, you wanna log on and post
And say, "Talk to me, talk to me
Somebody please talk to me"
Yeah...ah...ah...ahhh

Oh, yeah...ah
Every one needs a hand to hold on to
Every one had some tans they held on to
Don't need to be no strong hand
Don't need to be no rich hand
Every one just needs a hand to hold on to

Thursday, March 29, 2012

I Second That Emotion

From Smokey Robinson & The Miracles…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U8NBji3AC9Q&feature=fvsr


Maybe you think that Black C’s just skin deep
And only for one fright with no repeat
Maybe just go away and never maul
And a paste of sunscreen is just no fun at all (oh little girl)

Oh little girl, in that case I don't want no part
That would only break my heart
Oh, but if you know “just skin C’s” mean
If you get the notion
I second that emotion
Said, if you know “just skin C” means
A lifetime of commotion
I second that emotion

Maybe you think that meds would lie you down
You ain't got the time to hang around
Maybe you think that meds were made for fools
So it makes you wise to break the rules

Oh little girl, in that case I don't want no part
That would only break my heart
Oh, but if you feel like beating C
If you got the notion
I second that emotion
Said, if you feel like giving C
A line of toxic potions
I second that emotion

Maybe you think that sunscreen is for geeks
Pale’s only for uptight and is not neat
Maybe you broil away and have a ball
Think a paste of sunscreen is just no fun at all (oh little girl)

Oh little girl, in that case I don't want no part
That would only break my heart
Oh, but if you feel like ‘screening thee
If you got the notion
I second that emotion
Said, if you feel like pale skin’s neat
A lifetime of sun lotion
I second that emotion

Maybe you think that Hotel M’s not ‘round
You ain't lookin’ fine if you’re not brown
Maybe you think that tan bed’s healthy tool
So it makes you wise to say we’re fools

Oh little girl, in that case I don't want no part
That would only break my heart
Oh, but if you feel like joining me
If you got the notion
I second that emotion
Said, if you feel “just skin C” needs
A lifetime of devotion
I second that emotion

Well, if you feel “just skin C” needs
A lifetime of devotion...

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

An Ode To The Supremes

This is a really big week at The United States Supreme Court. The Court (known to lawyer types as “the Supremes”) is holding six hours of oral arguments on the constitutionality of the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act (a/k/a Obamacare).

Reasonable people of intelligence, good will, and love of country can and do differ on whether PPACA implements the best policies and best ideas for reducing the number of uninsured Americans and solving the dilemma of folks like us at the Hotel Melanoma, who are sometimes denied health insurance coverage based on our rather glaring “preexisting condition”. The so-called “individual mandate” is particularly controversial, raising important questions about the limits of Congress’ legislative powers under the “commerce” and “necessary and proper” clauses of the Constitution. My bet is that the Supremes will find the mandate constitutional, and by more than the 5-4 majority we too often see from this Court, but who knows.

Personally, I’d hate to see the whole thing go down in constitutional flames. As flawed as PPACA may be in some of its details I don’t much like and won’t go into here, it represents Congress’ one and only serious effort in my lifetime to see that more Americans have health insurance coverage. And it’s hard to imagine that today’s dysfunctional and highly partisan Congress and White House would ever come together to replace it with something better.

So, my dear Supremes, I’ll leave you with a plea for restraint and my hopes that you’ll show a little love to the uninsured in America-- the legions who, unlike you, don’t hold lifetime appointments to a great job with excellent group health insurance coverage paid for by us taxpayers. To the tune of “Stop! In The Name of Love” from Diana Ross & The Supremes…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Of-YOLy8f50


Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart

Supremes, Supremes
I'm just fair at laws you know
Each time you leave your doors
I watch your big frowns from seats
Knowing another law’s on street
But this time before you overturn
Leaving me so uninsured
(Think it over) Hasn’t life been good to you…
(Think it over) Hasn’t life been sweet to you…

Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart
Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart
Think it over
Think it over

I dream of your
Your secluded heights
I've even been there
Maybe once or twice
But is your judge impression
Worth more than my health care protection?
So this time before you cause me harm
And send law back to barn
(Think it over) Hasn’t life been good to you?
(Think it over) Hasn’t life been sweet to you?

Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart
Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart
Think it over
Think it over

I try so hard, hard to be patient
Hoping you'll rule for cancer nation
But each time you are together
I'm so afraid I'll be losing it forever

Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart
Supremes, think it over
Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart
Think it over Black Robes
Stop! In the name of love
Before you break my heart

Supremes, think it over
Think it over, Supremes
Ooh, think it over Supremes...

Monday, March 26, 2012

Roadkill Rock

Just a little music for my next road trip to the ‘Name Of Rich Oil Dude’ Cancer Pavilion, Crosby, Stills & Nash’s “Southern Cross”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-qvIvBhSX8


Got out of town in my car goin' to Denver town
Driving a stretch, SUV tailgaiting me
She was makin' for the lane on the outside
And the downhill run to big shopping spree

Off the left on this heading lie the outlet malls
We got highway speeds on the interstate nicely making way
In a noisy room at the clinic docs try to maul you
And as I watch my watch I realize why twice I ran away

Think about how many lines I’ve been bloggin’.
Classic rock's musing me, rocker voices calling.
That tanning brought you to me cannot be forgotten.
I would fly around the world, looking for that Black C cure, which shows we will endure.
And I hope we will, and I hope we will.

When we see our mole map flaws for the first time,
We understand not why we tanned those days.
Cause the moles we might be running from are so small.
But they’re as big as the promise, the promise of those IV days.

So I'm praying for tomorrow, my dreams are not dying.
In my PICC line’s an answer tried and true, tried ‘til the end of game.
I have my drip and all bad cells are a-dyin’.
C is all that I have left and havoc is its game.

Think about how many lines I’ve been bloggin’.
Music is musing me, rocker voices calling.
That tanning brought you to me cannot be forgotten.
(I've been around this lot) I have been around this lot.
(Lookin') Lookin' for a parking spot.
It makes my head feel hot.
And I’m now roadkill, and I’m now roadkill yes.

So we’ve treated and we’ve spyed and we’ve tested
And I’ll never fail, you’ll fail, I’m not the easiest fling for you.
I will survive, you’ll be bested.
Some Ipi time will come along, make me forget about getting you.
And we’ll see who’s boss.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Gimme Some Druggin'

When it comes to melanoma treatment, my idea of “alternative medicine” is a good single malt scotch and a long walk with my golden retriever. I chose to receive all the conventional medicine I could get, including biochemotherapy and radiation treatments, and would do it all again in a heartbeat. The only thing resembling wheat grass that this old boomer will ever ingest will have to come courtesy of a medical marijuana prescription for chemo nausea. So for all of you bad ass melanoma warriors who agree with me about “better living through chemistry”, here’s a new twist on The Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin’”…




Hey!
Well my temperature's rising
And the nurse locked my door
Crazy T-cells rocking,
'Cause they dosed me some more.
Get it on Black C,
Come and show what you got
But you better take it easy.
My meds are hot.

And I'm
So glad they gave it
So glad I take it
You gotta
Gimme some druggin'
Gimme some druggin'
Gimme some druggin' everyday.

Hey!
Well I feel so good
Everything is kinda high
I better take it easy
Cause my face is on fire
It's been a hard day
And I have more meds to do
I take it, Black C.
And it’s aimed square at you.

And I'm
So glad they gave it
So glad I take it
You gotta
Gimme some druggin'
Gimme some druggin'
Gimme some druggin' everyday.

Hey!
Well I feel so good
Everything is gettin' high.
I better take it easy
'Cause my case is so dire.
It's been a hard day
And nothing went too good
Now I'm gonna relax
IV’s every body’s good

And I'm
So glad they gave it, hey hey
So glad I take it
You gotta
Gimme some druggin'
Gimme some druggin', woo hoooo
Hey hey every month
Gimme gimme gimme some of your druggin’ babe
You know I need it so bad, woo hoooo
Gimmie some of your druggin’,
Yeah yeah yeah my druggin’, Oh yeah

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Nowhere To Run

Just a little Motown, from Martha & The Vandellas…



Nowhere to run to Bad C, nowhere to hide
Got nowhere to run to Bad C, nowhere to hide

It's not sun I'm hidin' from,
It's your outbreak I know will come
Cause I know that you're no good for me (You're no good)
But you've become a part of me

Everywhere I go, your fate I see,
Every step I take, you take with me, yeah

Nowhere to run to Bad C, nowhere to hide
Got nowhere to run to Bad C, nowhere to hide

I know you're no good for me,
But free of you, I'll never be, no

Each night, as I sleep, into my nodes you creep,
I wake up feeling sorry I met you,
Hoping soon, that docs will get you

When I look in the mirror, to search for hair
I see your face just-a-smilin' there

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, from you Bad C
Got nowhere to run to Bad C, nowhere to hide

I know that you're no good for me.
But you've become, a part of me

How can I fight a beast, that shouldn't be?
When it's mole-deep, mole-deep, deep inside of me

My drugs made me so high, I can't get over it
Brain’s so fried, I can't get around it, no

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, from you, Bad C
Just can't get away from you Bad C, no matter hard I try

I know you're no good for me,
But free of you, I'll never be

Nowhere to run to Bad C, nowhere to hide (nowhere to hide)
Got nowhere to run to Bad C, nowhere to hide (nowhere to hide)

Thursday, March 22, 2012

The Waiting Game

An excerpt from my first post, which needed a song…

I believe the medical profession and their patients live in alternate universes in terms of their conceptions and experiences of the passage of time. For a new cancer patient, the diagnostic process can’t ever move too fast; we want answers and we want them today, so let’s get on with it and complete all those scans etc. now. Unfortunately, for most of us it doesn’t work that way. Procedures and tests have to be scheduled in busy medical centers and insurance companies have to be contacted for authorizations. For the medical profession, the elapse of a week or so between major diagnostic events, plus a few more days before the results come in, is but a brief and inconsequential moment in time. To the scared patient (and his family) this is an eternity.

On one occasion during this time of what seemed to me to be glacial diagnostic work, I made the mistake of voicing my feelings to the clinic folks. Two rather blunt responses were elicited. One, if I thought I could get things done quicker elsewhere I was welcome to do that. Two, it won’t really matter if a few more diagnostic weeks elapse before starting treatment because it either works or it doesn’t.

I must confess to having said such things to pushy clients in the course of a busy law practice, and I now deeply regret my insensitivity.

And now for that song, The Rolling Stones’ “Waiting On A Friend”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1LDqQ6e6BTE


Watching hours go passing by
It ain't the greatest thing
I'm just hanging in this long wait
I'm just trying to break suspense
Tired of these hours go passing by
The ways docs stall, ahem!
I'm not waiting on the Pope, see?
I'm just waiting on my scans

A smile relieves a heart that grieves
Remember what I said
I'm not counting on quick victr’y
I'm just waiting on my scans
I'm just waiting on my scans

Do need the score
I sure need some news
Might need a chaplain priest
Yes I need someone I can cry to
I need some scans to detect
Faking hope and quaking hearts
It is a game of truth
But I'm not waiting to be C-free
I'm just waiting on my scans

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The Folly of Youth

A study presented this week at the annual meeting of the American Academy of Dermatology tells me we’re going to need to build a new wing at the Hotel Melanoma. According to a survey of sorority members performed by a dermatologist at the University of Missouri, most young women know that indoor tanning raises their risk of skin cancer but they still do it anyway.

My initial reaction to this story was to get uppity, shake my head, and dismiss these young women as vain and vapid airheads. But then I remembered some of the high-risk behaviors I engaged in as a college student in the early 70’s, knowing they were risky but thinking I was bulletproof. I once read that the male brain doesn’t reach maturity until we reach the age of 25 or so, and until then we aren’t fully capable of rationally evaluating the potential risks and consequences of our actions. If I’m representative of my species and gender, I don’t doubt this one bit. So, I guess I need to cut these kids some slack and just hope they get regular skin checks and stop tanning before it’s too late?

Oy. I’ll sign off with some new words to ZZ Top’s “Legs”…



We got heads, don’t know how to use them
We tan in beds, we know they abuse skin
C only lets us wonder how we’ll feel then
Would heads still deny, friends, if we could only find them
C’s IV spree, please UV flee
Yeah, mel’s a fright

We get scares from cancer nannies
We’ve got our heads stuck right into our fannies
Every time we’re tannin’ we know what we do
Everybody wants to see, see if we can lose it
C’s not fine, C’s still mine
Mel, you cause a fright

We’ve got heads, don’t know how to use them
C lurks in beds, we know not to choose them
C bides its time and that’s not fine
Stays out of sight hidin’ through time
Oh, I want cures, said I got to have cures
This mel is all fright, C’s all fright

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Scanxiety Rock

Y’all know what I’m talking about, so without further adieu here’s my version of Van Morrison’s “Wavelength”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qrU5dJMeQug


This is a song about your wavelength
And my wait length, CT
They turn you on
Then you get me on your wavelength
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
With your wavelength
Oh, with my wait length
With your wavelength
With my wait length
Oh mela, oh mela, oh mela, oh mela, oh mela, oh mela

Wavelength
Wavelength
You never let me down no
You never let me down no

When zip’s found it always comforts me
When I'm worried you see about C
You see ev'rywhere you're s’posed to see
And I can hit your station
When I need illumination

Wavelength
Wavelength
You never let me down no
You never let me down no

I heard the voice of Doc Arrogant
Callin' on my wavelength
Tellin' me to come in to his result show
I heard the voice of Doc Arrogant
Callin' on my wavelength
Sayin' "Not back, Big C’s
Not back
Not back, Big C’s
Not back"

Do do do dou-dit do do dou�dit do do do do do
Do do do dou�dit do do dou�dit do do do do do

Won't you scan that spot again for C
About my liver, my liver gets a pass, yeah, alright
You have told me that I’m Big C-free
Scannin' "Not back, Black C’s
Not back
Not back, Black C’s
Not back"

On my wavelength
Wavelength
You never let me down no, no
You never let me down no, no
When you get me on
When you get me on your wavelength
When you get me
Oh, yeah, bored
You get me on your wavelength

I got myself some joy
When you get me on
Get me on your wavelength
Na I don’t glow, na I don’t glow, na I don’t glow
Na I don’t glow, na I don’t glow, na I don’t glow

Monday, March 19, 2012

Hail Dents

What follows is a short excerpt from my first blog post published two years ago today. Seemed like it needed a song…

Few cancer survivors seem to come out of their cancer treatments unscathed. For most of us, the common combination of major surgery, chemotherapy and radiation result in some lingering and perhaps permanent hangover effects and challenges that affect our daily lives. In my own case, it’s a bit of ‘golden retriever brain’ and peripheral nerve damage from biochemotherapy, and some loss of function in my left arm and hand due to the schwannoma tumor. I’m truly thankful for my blessings of everything I still have that works reasonably well and everything I can still do. And yet I’m also mildly annoyed and frustrated by the daily challenges of living with these effects and stubbornly optimistic they’ll just go away one of these days if I keep working hard enough at beating them. These negative emotions usually lead to feelings of guilt for my seeming ingratitude for survival—and a sense that I should just suck it up and stop whining. I’m convinced, nonetheless, that a bit of annoyance and frustration with the effects of treatment, and a good measure of denial about their permanence, are all for the good for a survivor, as these emotions reflect an enduring fighting spirit that is determined to overcome the disease. Passive acceptance is not the state in which we should ever want to live.

And now for that song, my version of Santana’s “No One To Depend On”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYc-zH0Ak6Q


I ain't got no body that I can depend on
I ain't got no body that I can defend on

Sure got some buddies that I can depend on
Sure got some buddies that I can unbend on

Ain't got no sun (it tingles my body)
That I glow from (no tanning my body)
That you can depend on (no tangle with doctors)

Ain't got no sun (it tingles my body)
Got old body (no tango or party)
I won’t wear Depends on (no trouble with bladder)

I ain't got no body that I can depend on (no tangle with Black C)
I ain't got no body that I can defend on (no tangle with Black C)

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Happy Anniversary To Me

Tomorrow marks the second anniversary of this blog. So it seems like a fitting occasion for me to butcher the most overplayed classic rock song ever recorded, Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven”…



Here's a laddie who's sure he’ll get critters in moles
And be hitting all fairways in heaven
If he gets there he knows, if the doors are all closed
It’s the words he wrote that he’s payin’ for
Ooh, ooh, then he's missing all fairways in heaven

Bares his hide and shows all but he wants to be sure
'Cause you know sometimes docs botch skin screenings
For Black C is a crook, there's a wrong word it brings
Sometimes all of those stats are misleading
Ooh, C makes me wonder
Ooh, C makes me wonder

There's a feeling I get when I hook to new meds
And my spirit is crying for healing
Thanks to docs I have seen rings of smoke from IVs
And the voices of those who came running
and C makes me wonder
really makes me wonder

And it's whispered that soon if we all sing C’s tune
Then big donors will bring a new season
And a new day will dawn for those who tanned long
And this Hotel will echo with laughter

If you still hustle for your tan glow, you’re doing harm now,
It's just a warning from the blog scene
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on
Ooh, it makes C wander
Ooh, Ooh, it makes C wander

Those beds are humming and your moles grow, in case you don't know
Oz doctor’s calling you to join him
Dear lady can't you fear your skin glow, and did you know
Your stairway lies on the blistering skin

And as we wind on down this road
Our derm docs worry ‘bout our moles
There stalks a Black C we all know
Which shines bright light and wants to grow
Oh “just skin cancer’s” gettin’ old
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
We’re all for one and one for all, yeah
To sing our rock and share our souls.

And that tanning’s the stairway to heaven


By the way, thanks for following me!

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Walkin' 'Bout My Mel

Please join your mole mates on November 17, 2012 in Charlotte, North Carolina for what just might be the biggest AIM For A Cure Melanoma Walk ever! And if you can’t be there, please sponsor a participant.

From The Temptations, “My Girl”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LbAaLdLguLo&feature=related


I wear sunscreen on a cloudy day.
When my doc prescribes, I've got big drug co-pays.
I guess I’ll pray
What can make some sponsors pay?
My mel (my mel, my mel)
Walkin' 'bout my mel (my mel).

We need so much money that pink envies we.
We've got much neater songs than that pink cancer sees.
I guess you'll say
What can make me heal today?
My mel (my mel, my mel)
Walkin' 'bout my mel (my mel).

Hey hey hey
Hey hey hey
Ooooh.

We sure need more money, fortune, and fame.
We've got all the stitches, Black C’s the one to blame.
I guess you'll say
What can make November day?
My mel (my mel, my mel)
Walkin' 'bout my mel (my mel).

I wear sunscreen on a cloudy day
with my mel.
I've even got these huge co-pays
with my mel

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Wishing all of my mole mates a very festive St. Patrick’s Day, here’s a new version of Van Morrison & The Chieftains’, “Irish Heartbeat”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UT0YgMnSXR8


Oh won't you stay, stay awhile
With your mole ones.
Don't ever stray,
Stray so far from your mole ones.
This Hotel is so cold.
Don't care nothin' for your soul
You share with your mole ones.

Don't rush away, rush away
From your mole ones.
Just one more day, one more pray
With your moles ones.
Hotel M is so cold.
Don't care nothin' for your soul
You share with your mole ones.

There's a doctor
And he's standing at your door.
May be your best friend
Might be a bother,
You just never know.

I'm going back, going back
To my mole ones.
Back to walk, walk awhile
With my mole ones.
Hotel M is so cold.
Don't care nothing for your soul
You share with your mole ones

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Another Ode To The Big C

A request, a schmaltzy ballad from the 60’s, The Association’s “Cherish”…



Perish is the word I use to describe
All the feeling that I have raging here for you inside
You don't know how many times I've wished that I could cure you
You don't know how many times I've wished no one endured you
You don't know how many times I've wished that I could
Beat you down to some stage that would
perish thee as quick as I perish flu

Oh I'm beginning to think that docs have never found
The meds that could make you leave me
That have the right amount of agents, all at slight cost
That could make you fear, make you flee
And have me drivin' C out of my mind

Oh I could say I’ll beat you but then you'd realize
That my fate’s yours just like a thousand other guys
Who'd say they’ve left you for all the rest of their lives
When all they wanted was to slow your pace, your plans
And braise into tanned fries

Perish is the word that more than applies
To the hate in my heart each time I realize
That I am not gonna be the one that fares poor genes
That I am not gonna be the one you spare your schemes
That I am not gonna be the one to bear what
Seemed to be good fries and I could
Perish from such a cause as yours

Perish is the word I use to describe
All the feeling that I have raging here for you inside
You don't know how many times I've wished that I could cure you
You don't know how many times I've wished no one endured you
You don't know how many times I've wished that I could
Beat you down to some stage that would
perish thee as quick as I perish flu

And let’s do perish you
And let’s do perish you

Perish is the word


I think I could lip sync better than any of these guys!

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Bad Company

Melanoma being the ultimate “bad company”, here’s the Hotel Melanoma version of Bad Company’s “Bad Company”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ww5GXbk58R0


Cancer spree, always on the run
Sunscreen-free begs skin cancer fun
Oh I’m newborn, sunscreen’s in my hands
Beneath the sun I've baked my final tan
That's ‘cause they call C bad company
And I can't deny
Bad company
Till the day I die
Till the day I die
Till the day I die
Rebel moles
Sick perverts they are called
Chose my drugs and drew IV’s, what fun
Now these oncs
They all know my name
Sixteen rounds is my claim to fame
I can hear them say “bad company”
And I won't deny
Bad bad company
Till the day I die
Till the day I die
Bad
Bad company
I can't deny
Bad company
Till the day I die
And I say it's
Bad company
Oh Yeah---Yeah
Bad company
Till the day I die
Oh yeah, tell me that Black C’s not life thief
Oh but it is
Bad company
It's the way C plays
Dirty for dirty
Oh some cancer double-crossed me
Double-cross
Double-cross
Yeah
C’s bad company
Kills in cold blood

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

A Ticket To Hide

I’m eight-plus years into a “no evidence of disease” status, and have been feeling quite paranoid and spooked about it over the course of the last couple of months. Perhaps it’s just a case of survivor’s March Madness and there’s no trip to the Final IV in store for me. Perhaps I’ve read too many accounts from other melanoma warriors who experienced a recurrence many years after surviving their first bout with the beast. Maybe I read too much into the body language and facial expressions of my oncologist, who always seems to be pleasantly surprised when I show up healthy for my semiannual checkup. But I can’t seem to shake the feeling that my luck’s about to run out. And I know that I’m not alone in experiencing this sense of being a ticking time bomb.

Sorry to be “Dicky Downer” today. But, dear reader(s), if you’re in the same place today then know you’re not alone. I’ll sign off with a new version of The Beatles’ “Ticket To Ride”…




Think I'm gonna be sad,
I think it's today, yeah.
The cure we’re needing so bad
Is far off away.

C's got a ticket to hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hi-hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hide,
But C’s still there.

I’ve said that living with C
Is bringing me down yeah.
I won’t ever be free
When C is around.

C’s got a ticket to hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hi-hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hide,
But C’s still there.

I don't know why C’s hidin' so sly,
C ought to think twice,
C ought to do right by me.
Before C gets to making me die,
C ought to think twice,
C ought to do right by me.

I think I'm gonna be sad,
I think it's today yeah.
A cure that's hurting C bad
Is far off away, yeah.

Ah, C's got a ticket to hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hi-hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hide,
But C’s still there.

I don't know why C’s hidin' so sly,
C ought to think twice,
C ought to do right by me.
Before C gets to making me die,
C ought to think twice,
C ought to do right by me.

I’ve said that living with C,
Is bringing me down, yeah.
I can’t ever be free
When C’s still around.

Ah, C’s got a ticket to hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hi-hi-hide,
C's got a ticket to hide,
And C don't care.

My Black C don't care, my Black C don't care.
My Black C don't care,

My Black C don't care, my Black C don't care.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Monday, Monday

Only a Congress that invented the accounting fiction of the Social Security Trust Fund could proclaim that by a stroke of the legislative pen they’ve “saved” time and given us an “extra” hour of daylight. Like they’ve slowed down the rotation of the Earth on its axis and given us a 25-hour day? And that slowing and extra hour just happens to occur while the western hemisphere is facing the sun? Sheesh. Whatever, just wear extra sunscreen during that “extra” hour of sunlight and hope your body clock someday adjusts to losing an hour of sleep on the weekend.

I received the news of my initial melanoma diagnosis on a Monday and started each round of biochemotherapy on a Monday-- two more reasons for me to empathize with the legions of tired and grumpy folks on this first (dark) Monday morning of Daylight ‘Savings’ Time. Maybe a new version of The Mamas & The Papas, “Monday, Monday” will help brighten the day?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h81Ojd3d2rY


Monday Monday, so good for C,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped with IVs
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning sure could guarantee
That Monday evening mel would still be here with me.

Monday Monday, it’s PICC line day,
Monday Monday, sometimes it’s just good time to pray
Oh Monday morning, nurse gave me big warnings of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday, oh could mel leave and not break me.

Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time

Monday Monday, so cruel for we,
Monday Monday, it was all we hoped we could flee
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening we would still be cancer-free.

Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Monday comes, but whenever Monday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time

Monday Monday, ...

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Stand By Your Tans

For the marketing shills of the tanning salon industry, which sells a known carcinogen to teenagers by lying about the risks of using its product, a new version of Tammy Wynette’s “Stand By Your Man”…



Sometimes it's hard to be a salon
Telling all your lies to sell some tans
You'll sell good times
And they'll buy bad times
Riskin’ things that they don't understand
But if you fool them
You'll bring kids in
Even though C likes to grow from tans
But if they love skin
Oh, be proud of skin
’Cause someday all will want you banned

Stand by your tans
Tell them no harm they’ll come to
And tanning’s good for health too
when nights are cold and wintry

Stand by your tans
And tell the world your truth spin
Keep making all the bucks you can
Tanned hides bring scans

Stand by your tans
And show the world you’re lyin’
Keep making all the dough you can
Tanned hides bring scans

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Tanning Her Hide

Yesterday morning, I was standing outside my neighborhood manly haircut joint and enjoying an early spring day while waiting to get my monthly buzz. The place happens to be next door to a tanning salon that is so aptly named “Tan Your Hide”. Really. I watched an attractive and quite tanned young woman cruise up in her oversized SUV (the official soccer mom car in Colorado) and then head into the salon. For a moment I thought about following her in and preaching a sermon on the risks of what she was about to do, apparently not for the first time. And asking her how many kids she’d leave behind if melanoma whacks her. But I didn’t because I’m way too shy and retiring to ever do such a thing.

So instead, here’s my version of a song she’ll never, ever hear, “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” from The Police…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aENX1Sf3fgQ


Though I've tried before to tell her
Of the feelings I have for tans in my heart
Every time that I come near her
I just lose my nerve
As I've done from the start

Every little tan she does is tragic
Every fry she do just turns C on
Even though her life in store is magic
How I know mel’s hunt for her goes on

Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand pain-filled days since C I met
I could sing it a cappella
How it's always C that ends up winning bets

Every little tan she does is tragic
Every fry she do just turns C on
Even though her life in store is magic
How I know mel’s hunt for her goes on

I resolve to blog it up a thousand times and pray
And tell her that she'll marry C on some upcoming day
But the silence fell around C
Long before I preach my pitch
Long before my tongue has tripped me
Must C always hit it rich?

Every little tan she does is tragic
Every fry she do just turns C on
Even though her life in store is magic
How I know mel’s hunt for her goes on

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Happy Anniversary, Rev!

For our Hotel Melanoma Chaplain and to celebrate the upcoming first anniversary of her Melanoma Prayer Center on Facebook, an alternate version of Jimmy Buffett’s ‘gospel’ classic, “My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink and I Don’t Love Jesus”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHw9K9yMots


My moles hurt, Black C stinks, but I sho’ love Jesus (oh my Lordy it's not...)
It's not time for mournin’
Really is the time to fight
Tryin' to tell myself that my prognosis is improvin'
And if I don't die by Thursday let’s do mole checks Friday night

Went down to the clinic
’Cause checkup time is here
Listen to the docs squawk
Scans been comin' in clear

All of a sudden I wad'n alone
Checkin' funny sunspots with ol' Doc Bones
Oncology was rockin'
My eyes they started poppin'

Because there C sat at the corner of the scar
As I broke a long time string of remission pars
Someone call the lab
Claims man won'tcha pay my tab

My moles hurt, Black C stinks, but I sho’ love Jesus (oh my Lordy it's not...)
It's not time for mournin’
Really is the time to fight
Tryin' to tell myself that my prognosis is improvin'
And if I don't die by Thursday let’s do mole checks Friday night

Gotta ask the Hotel Chaplain
Get a prayer for my health
I can't spend all day
Boomer prayin’ for his self

I'm loggin’ into Rev’s page, drink some Heaven’s milk
Can find some new life in her words of silk
I've got to find a way
Get out and fight this prey

My moles hurt, Black C stinks, but I sho’ love Jesus (oh my Lordy it's not...)
It's not time for mournin’
Really is the time to fight
Tryin' to tell myself that my prognosis is improvin'
And if I don't die by Thursday let’s do mole checks Friday night

Let me tell ya, let’s do mole checks Friday night
I mean let’s do
Mole checks
Friday
Night

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Malenoma Rock

“Malenoma” was part of a Google search query that sent a searcher to this blog the other day. My first reaction was to chuckle about the searcher’s poor spelling skills and to marvel that the Google search engine software still ‘knew’ the searcher was interested in melanoma. But perhaps this searcher is onto something and has coined a spot-on nickname for this increasingly common brand of cancer when, according to the Skin Cancer Foundation, 1 in 41 men will be diagnosed with melanoma in their lifetime.

Guys, please take care of your largest organ (yeah, snicker all you like) and love the skin you’re in by making sunscreen and an annual skin check part of your preventive health care routine. You really, really don’t want to check into the Hotel ‘Malenoma’.

I’ll sign off with an update of “Every Breath You Take” from the Police...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMOGaugKpzs


Every burn you take
Every mole’s at stake
Every bronze you fake
Every checkup make
Black C’s stalking you

Every single day
SPF’s the way
Every game you play
Every night you pray
Black C’s stalking you

Oh can't you see
You belong to C
How your derm doc aches with every burn you take

Every time you bake
Every ray you take

Every scan docs make
Every year you stake
Black C’s stalking you

Since your sun bronze can be lost without a trace
You can ‘screen right sun can never see your face
Gal looks all round and it's you she can't replace
You might grow old and she longs for your embrace
Don’t keep frying laddies, laddies please

Every time you bake
Every ray you take
Every scan docs make
Every year you stake
Black C’s stalking you

Monday, March 5, 2012

Grassroots Rock

For our Hotel Chaplain, who’s one wise thinker about what it’ll take to raise melanoma awareness, a new version of John Mellencamp’s “Ain’t Even Done With The Night”...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DagIivbPlCU


Well, new drugs could do wonders
We don't know where’s the mother lode
We want our hands in more back pockets
And some stars singin' on a tv show
We say that there’s celebs who can make it all come true
Well, I'm tellin' ya that I don't know if stars say it like you

I say it’s our fight, hang tight
Well, I don't even know if I'm bloggin' this right
It’s our fight, hang tight
We can speak out all day and we can talk about black blight
Well hang tight, our fight
Well, it's time to C own
And we ain't ever ceasing the fight

Well, I don't know no good come-ons
And I don't know no cool lines
I feel the heat of your frustration
I know it's burnin' you up deep down inside
I say that we’re the ones who can make it all come true
Well, I'm tellin' ya that no one can say it true like you do

I say it’s our fight, hang tight
Well, I don't even know if I'm bloggin' this right
It’s our fight, hang tight
We can speak out all day and we can talk about black blight
Well hang tight, our fight
Well, it's time to C own
And we ain't ever ceasing the fight

Saturday, March 3, 2012

A Slippery Slope

The ski slopes are calling me and, it being spring break time, I’m sure I’ll see a lot of raccoon faces on flatlanders who didn’t wear sunscreen on the slopes. And some out-of-control kamikaze snow riders (usually sporting a Miami Dolphins or Atlanta Falcons jacket) snowplowing or side-skidding down the hill at 30 m.p.h. And at least one Texan trying to order a Corona Light at my favorite local microbrewery, where the bartenders’ usual response is to pour a glass of ice water, smile, and walk away. Ah, the joys of spring.

I’ll sign off with a song for all you spring breakers, Janis Joplin’s “Try (Just a Little Bit Harder)”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vU9Dsl89UGo


Fry, fry, fry just a little bit darker
No I don’t love, love, love skin, I hate myself
'Cause I'm gonna fry, oh yeah, just a little bit darker
And I might lose, lose, lose skin to biopsy tests, yeah.
Hey, I don't care how done sun’s gonna bake me
And if it's sunscreen I don't want, no I don't really want it
Yeah if it's UVs I don't want no SP to break me.

Yeah I'm gonna fry, oh yeah, just a little bit darker
So I can give, give, give, give derm every bit of my moles.
I'm gonna fry, oh yeah, just a little bit darker
So I can show, show, show him sun with no control, yeah.
Hey! I don't care how done sun’s gonna bake me
No if it's sunscreen I don't want
No I don't really want it
Yeah if it's UVs I don't want no SP to break me.
Hey, dig it! Yeah! Yeah yeah yeah!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, all right.

Fry oh yeah, hey, fry oh yeah, board, board, board,
fry oh yeah, fry oh yeah, board, board, board,
fry oh yeah yeah, fry, whoa, fry oh yeah, board, board, board,
Shoosh, turn, shoosh, turn, oh yeah, fry, oh yeah hey!
Fry oh yeah, hey fry oh yeah,
Fry more, fry, fry, you ain't frying man
You're not frying out man, come up with it.
Come on, that's a plower that’s missin’ to turn, man.
Hey you gotta turn all right
Hey little girl, gotta shoosh on
You got no speed
Turn a little more, hey, fry a little more,
Green’s a little bore
Yeah, work on, shoosh on, move on, move on,
You gotta work for it, you gotta work on it
Shoosh on, green on, move on,
Move on, hey hey hey.

Turn it fat skis,
Turn it fat skis,
Come on, turn it fat skis, oh
Yeah, yeah, you better fry, fry, fry, fry a little more
You ain't never gonna have any fun if that's the sort of turn you can do.
Shoot, there's lot more talent around than that man.
Fry, fry, fry, fry, fry, fry,
You've gotta fry, fry, fry, fry,
Fry, fry, fry, fry, fry, fry...
You gotta fry, fry, fry, fry...
Board, fry, fry, fry, fry,
Board, fry, fry, fry, fry,
Hey, fry, fry, fry, fry,

Hey, fry oh yeah, fry oh yeah, board, board, board
Fry oh yeah, hey, fry whoa, fry oh yeah
Fry oh yeah, board, board, board, fry oh yeah
Fry oh yeah, hey, hey, hey,
Fry oh yeah, Fry oh yeah,
Board, board, board, snowboard.

Friday, March 2, 2012

With or Without You

I’ve been feeling like quite the cancer slacker of late. For me, life with melanoma has been a lot like March weather-- in like a lion, out like a lamb. Six months of diagnostic and treatment hell, followed by eight years of a wary state of ceasefire. And when I read so many accounts of much younger folks in the midst of vicious Stage IV battles I can’t help but feel a bit guilty about my relative good fortune. Is melanoma truly a random, arbitrary and capricious trickster that kills young parents while sparing this old boomer? Deep down, until the day I succumb from some other cause I’ll always believe that this bastard is just toying with me and, sooner or later, it’ll come roaring back like a lion.

Meanwhile, you black-hearted sonofabitch, I guess I’ll just do my best at living with or without you. From U2…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmSdTa9kaiQ


See the fate set in my fries
See the porn twist in my slides.
I wait for you.
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails you make me wait
And I wait without you

With or without you
With or without you.

Through the storm, I’ve reached a shore
I gave it all, will you want more?
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you.
I can live with or without you.

And you hide yourself away
And you hide yourself away
And you hide, and you hide
And you hide yourself away.

My brain is fried, my body used
You left me with something to win
And all things left to lose.

And you hide yourself away
And you hide yourself away
And you hide, and you hide
And you hide yourself away.

With or without you
With or without you
I can live
With or without you.

With or without you
With or without you
I can live
With or without you
With or without you.

yeah,
we' ll walk with stars in November light
we' ll shine like stars in November, mates
one heart, one hope, one cure

With or without you
With or without you
We can live
With or without you.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

You Gotta Stay Out of This Place

I get a lot of good chuckles out of looking at the Google search keywords that send unsuspecting victims to my blog. Today’s favorite is “cant [sic] afford melanoma”.

No kidding. Life at the Hotel Melanoma has whacked me up the side of the head financially, despite the fact that I’ve never been without health insurance coverage that, most of the time, eventually pays my claims. Co-pays, co-insurance, deductibles, travel expenses, and lost income from not working all add up to a potentially crushing financial burden. I’m lucky it fell on me at a stage of life when I’d had the time to build up some resources to help weather the storm. I’d hate to guess what it might have been like to check into the Hotel Melanoma in my 20’s rather than my 50’s.

So, Googler, I’m not sure what you were really looking for today, but I’ll leave you with my version of The Animals’ “We Gotta Get Out of This Place”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUpBSvN1a50


In this dingy old part of the Hotel.
Where the sun’s refused most times.
Doctors tell me there ain't no future fryin’.

My little girl you think tan is pretty,
And one thing I know is true.
You just might die before your time is due.

See that laddie in bed a-fryin'.
See him there burnin' days.
He's been bakin' and wastin' his life away.
I know.

He's been bakin' yeah, everyday wastin’ his life away.
Have been courtin’ Black C.
He’s been a courtin’, courtin’ , courtin’, courtin’

You gotta stay out of this place
If it's the last thing you ever do
You gotta stay out of this place
Mate, there's a better life out there for you, ooh yeah

My little girl you know pale is pretty,
And one thing I know is true,
Won’t be dead before your time is due,
Yes I know

See my doctor instead of dyin'
Make the dare insurance pays
He's been workin' on spendin’ my health co-pay
Yes I know

Believe he's been work-in' yeah
Have been work-in' yeah, whoa!
He’s been work-in' work-in' work-in'

We gotta get out of this place
If it's the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place
Mates, there's a better life for me and you, whoa baby

We gotta get out of this place
If it's the last thing we ever do
We gotta get out of this place
Mates, there's a better life for me and you
Oh you know it baby, I know it baby
You know it too