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

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

What's This Black Cancer?

If you’ve been sufficiently masochistic to read my initial blog post, you know that I’ve at times been an insubordinate hospital patient. And that’s gotten me into big trouble on more than one occasion. Jimmy Buffett is one of the great musical storytellers, so I’ve borrowed “Who’s The Blond Stranger” for today’s homily…

Nothin’ like this I ever expected
Critical Care is a whole other world
My wife’s in my room callin’ help from my nurses
How did oncologists get me here for this cure

They told me my nodes had sprouted like clover
They had me do scans and said drink that dye down
They removed fourteen malignant lymph nodes
Then shipped me to Denver, the scanning went on

What’s this black cancer, that entered my life
Makin’ me play golf, in the dark night
This kind of disease, is all new to me
What’s this black cancer, that fools my M.D.’s

Infusin’ all night, for me that's the first time
Sneak out my bed just as cool as I can
Pull back the sheets and my head is all empty
Unplug my pumps and try to take a stroll on the lam

My head got all light and the room started spinning
I fell down on the floor, breathin’ no air
Out in the hall was my own squad of nurses
Callin’ a Code Blue in Critical Care

What’s this black cancer, that altered my life
Makin’ me garden, in the moonlight
This kind of treatment, is toxic to me
What’s this black cancer, that fools my M.D.’s

Back in my bed and everything’s normal
In comes my nurse and starts threatenin’ me
I could be restrained until the next morning
She’ll have me locked down and my wife sure agrees

What’s this black cancer, that burdened my wife
Makin’ me moon tan, after midnight
Four rounds of chemo, were not good for me
What’s this black cancer, that fools my M.D.’s

What’s this black cancer, that blew up my life
Makin’ my skin pale, what a white fright
This cancer’s whacked me, my insurance flees
What’s this black cancer, that fools my M.D.’s

If your nurse tells you not to try to get out of bed, please listen and obey!


  1. Oh, I feel for your wife... So glad your streak of independence didn't hurt you terribly!

    I loved reading your initial blog posts. Your ability to make the scary stuff hilarious is so impressing. I was actually in the neck surgeon's office when I read about your surprising hair cut. I couldn't stop laughing! I am pretty sure I was the only patient laughing in the waiting room...Oh well!

    I admire your attitude. Don't lose it!

  2. Thanks Chelsea. My wife and nurse were SERIOUSLY pissed off at me by the end of that day!