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 4, 2013


Triskaidekaphobia is an abnormal fear of the number 13. But on this first Friday of 2013 I’m feeling anything but triskaidekaphobic. The reason for that is that in 2013 I’ll celebrate my 60th birthday and, with any luck, my tenth cancerversary of “no evidence of disease” status.

I suppose some of my peers who haven’t checked into the Hotel Carcinoma will moan and whine a bit about turning 60 in 2013. But having been told by a doc or two that I wouldn’t survive my 50th year, I’m relishing the prospect that I just might one day start collecting Social Security and Medicare benefits and become a burden on the next generation. And way, way too many youngsters at the Hotel Melanoma celebrated their last birthday in 2012. Perhaps I owe it to them to make 2013 a year of celebration, hope, and redoubling my efforts in this small melanoma awareness crusade?

The Hotel Melanoma rendition of The Beatles’ “When I’m Sixty-Four”…

When I'm 64 from Eva Simkesyan on Vimeo.

When I get older losing my hair,
Many years from now,
Will they still be setting me a scanning time
Birthday screenings, all spots are fine?

If I'm whacked out from quart of IV
Will they block the door,
Will they still bleed me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?

oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oooo
You’ll be older too, (ah ah ah ah ah)
And if you say the word,
I could stray from U.

I could be handy setting a fuse
Them tan lights are gone.
You can turn to leather by the poolside
Sun day mornings moles are to hide.

Begging for pardon, spreading the ‘screen,
Who could ask for more?
Will they still bleed me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?

Every summer we can spend our dotage
In the Isle of White, it’s ‘skin cancer’ fear
We shall ‘screen from rays
Grandchildren pay for me
Medicare must save!

Leave me a comment, post me a line,
Stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, Wasted From Rays.

Tell me 'bout cancer, fill in the form
Whine not evermore
Will they still bleed me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?



  1. Thanks for what you do.When I was diagnosed in December of 2010 with stage 4 melanoma your blog was one of the first places I turned to for support. I think we corresponded...but thanks to chemo brain I don't quite remember. blessings to you for your support for others,I thought I was a dead woman, but No Way, I fought like hell.

  2. Thanks. Glad you are doing so well!

  3. I hope your 60th is going to be one hell-of-a- shindig!!