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

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

A Captive Audience



Last week’s sad news of President Carter’s metastatic melanoma diagnosis reminded me once again, “there but for the grace of God go I”. Although I’m a very lucky Stage 3c survivor now in my 13th (yikes) year of N.E.D. residency at The Hotel Melanoma, I nevertheless yearn to break out of this place and run away as fast and as far as possible. But I can’t because the nature of the Black Beast is that folks like me will forever be at risk of disease recurrence and progression. Like it or not, we’re all captives of this place until there’s a “cure”. And perhaps that’s why we received the news of Jimmy Carter’s check-in with quite mixed emotions-- deeply saddened that he’s joined our ranks, yet guiltily grateful that a renowned public figure has spoken out about his disease and cautiously hopeful that his public candor and courage might bring us all just a little bit closer to the saving grace of a cure.

Wishing this blog’s ‘captive audience’ health and well-being, I’ll sign off with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Saving Grace” from Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers…



I'm ‘passing’ peeping CT’s
Waiting for disease
Not believing all I see to be so

I'm cryin' over Black’s scars
Funky moles cause blanches
Wanting life between the scanning bestowed

And it's hard to say
Who you are these days
But you run on anyway
Don't you baby?

You keep running for another place
To find that saving grace

I'm living in unknown, Hotel grounds that no one owns
Blast treatments can’t atone for fry sins
There's a guard on every door
And a drink on every floor
Overflowing with a thousand amens

And it's hard to say
Who you are these days
But you run on anyway
Don't you baby?

You keep running for another place
To find that saving grace
Don't you baby?

You're strolling up the carpet
Of this Hotel’s new expansion
No bedroom in McMansion no more
And there's some quarters on this floor
They're telling you are yours
You're provident but not really cured

And it's hard to say
Who you are these days
But you run on anyway
Don't you baby?

You keep running for another place
To find that saving grace
Don't you baby?

You keep running for another place
To find that saving grace
Don't you baby?

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