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

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

A Boomer in Wonderland

It’s always seemed to me that life at The Hotel Melanoma has a certain “Alice in Wonderland” character to it. But perhaps that’s only because licensed medical professionals prescribed way too many psychotropic drugs for me, to combat the various and sundry effects of melanoma treatment?

To the tune of one of my favorite songs from the 60’s, Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit”…

One pill makes you barfer
And one pill makes it stall
And some ones that doctor gives you
Don't do anything at all
Go mask malice
When C's ten feet tall
And if you go chasing tan beds
Then you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah smoking quack and killer
Had given you the call to
Call malice
When you were just small

When the men on the death board
Get up and tell you where you glow
Gads, you've just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving slow
Go mask malice
I think we’ll know
When logic and emotions
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Coat is talking backwards
And the meds scream "off in yer head!" Remember what the mole doc said:
"’Screen YOUR HEAD...
‘Screen your head!!"

For the record, I was NOT at Woodstock in 1969, because I was only sixteen and my parents wouldn’t let me go.

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