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

Friday, January 30, 2015

Help Wanted: Angels

I’ve been a slothful blogger this past month, I guess because I’ve been preoccupied with operating a snow blower, paint brush, and tennis ball chukker. None of which I’m especially talented at. But I had the pleasure of speaking with a couple of representatives of Imerman Angels this past week and was duly inspired to sit down at the keyboard and do something more productive than taking more jabs at Patriots Coach Bill Belichick on Facebook.

Imerman Angels provides 1-on-1 cancer support by matching cancer fighters with a “Mentor Angel” who has experienced a similar cancer situation, giving fighters the chance to receive support from a peer who is truly familiar with the situation. (They also have a program for cancer caregivers.) They have a need for more melanoma survivors of all ages and stages to serve as volunteer Mentor Angels. I’ve been one and it’s a great way to “give back” and help someone who’s just checked into The Hotel Melanoma. And I can sure remember a time when I wish I’d had a Mentor Angel to provide some much-needed help, inspiration and courage, and that time could come again. Please consider getting involved with Imerman Angels; somebody out there needs your help.

Until next time, and who knows when that’ll be, I’ll sign off with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Help” from The Beatles…



Help, I need some buddy
Help, not just any buddy
Help, you know I need someone
Help!

When I was younger, so much dumber than today
I never needed anybody's help in any way
But now these days are gone I'm not so self-assured
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being 'round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me?

And now my life has changed in oh so many ways
My tan dependence seems to vanish with skin flays
And every now and then I need a listener
I know that I just need you like I've never done before

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being 'round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me?

When I was younger, so much dumber than today
I never needed anybody's help in any way
But now these days are gone I'm not so self-assured
Now I find I've changed my mind, I've opened up the doors

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being 'round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me?
Help me, help me, ooo

Saturday, January 3, 2015

The Braiser's Ledge

A new research study from Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine found that most cancers are primarily caused by bad luck rather than poor lifestyle choices or defective DNA-- biological bad luck in the form of random mistakes in cell division which are completely outside of our control. But don’t throw away your sunscreen and SPF duds because this study also found that basal cell skin cancer (the researchers apparently didn't include melanoma as one of the 31 types of cancer covered in the study) doesn’t fall into the ‘just bad luck’ category and is instead linked to sun exposure.

There’s no doubt that my diagnosis of Stage IIIc melanoma at age 50 wasn’t just the result of random mistakes in cell division and that my years of unprotected fun (and work) in the sun were a contributing factor. The price of my foolish braising was sixteen cycles of in-patient biochemotherapy treatments, which one of my nurses described to my wife as dosing me to the ledge of death while treating the severely toxic side effects so that I didn’t fall over the cliff. Which I very nearly did in a couple of Code Blue events during treatment.

Wishing I knew back then what I know all too well know, I’ll sign off with a lyrical “Dear 16-year-old Me” message, to the tune of AC/DC’s “The Razor’s Edge”…



There's frying on the left
And parching on the right
Don't cook up in the sky
You're gonna die of fright
Here comes the braiser’s ledge

You're living on the ledge
Don't know wrong from light
Mel’s breathing down your neck
You're running out of lives
And here comes the braiser’s ledge
Here comes the braiser’s ledge
The braiser’s ledge

Braiser’s ledge, to praise the red
Braiser’s ledge, to sun in beds
To praise the red

Here comes the braiser’s ledge
Here comes the braiser’s ledge
Well here skin comes to cut to shreds
The braiser’s ledge

The braiser’s ledge [it's the braiser's ledge]
Gotta braiser’s ledge [well, the braiser’s ledge]
You'll be cut to shreds [that you'll be cut to shreds]
By the scalpel’s edge [gotta razor's edge]
Gotta razor’s edge [by the scalpel's edge]