Brain Cancer: A guide, part 1

Okay, so you have been diagnosed with brain cancer, now what? First off, let me be the one to say welcome to your new life of confusion, self-doubting, regret, weird physical disabilities and an unexpected and sizable quantity of humiliating examinations performed by copious amounts of strangers involving highly inappropriate and uncomfortable levels of fondling that leave you feeling dirty, exposed and simultaneously mentally exhausted from answering a constant barrage of questions that increase in difficulty, designed to strip what was left of your dignity and stamina - if you have read any of my other posts, you are aware that the questions mostly involve poop (yours). It could be worse though. If you were in a third world country, they would just beat you until the demon left your body (not sure if they make you answer questions about poop during the beatings, though my assumption is they can perform a visual examination after a few bashes of the demon stick).

You should be aware that you will get a ridiculous amount of support from a ton of sympathetic visitors the first year and especially the first couple months after the diagnosis. Do not feel guilty, swallow your pride and let them help you for the sake of your family – they (your family) have to put up with your grumpy ass and deserve the help. From experience, I can tell you that if you continuously turn people away, they eventually stay away and it is your own damn fault. Also, there are certain people that will not come to visit you because they are frightened by the situation, hospitals in general or because they just don’t like you (I do not know you, so I cannot make that call). But, I can tell you that the people that do not visit usually make good babysitters (because they (A) feel bad for not showing face or they (B) feel guilty for still not liking you – either way its a win-win).

Now you might be feeling depressed that you have brain cancer or you might actually feel just a little bit of relief from the affirmation that you are not crazy and in fact are actually sick (I was the later first and the first later, but that was before combining the two and eventually dropping the later again and accepting the first). After you have been diagnosed, everything should follow along in step with the way Hollywood has portrayed that it would. If it does not go exactly as you have been shown, then you are doing something wrong and you need to keep trying - remember that the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results (fortunately, your condition allows you to be insane if you choose). Once you have perfected being terminally ill, you will start to become enlightened and cannot be bothered by the mundane problems that used to plague your work-a-day life. At this point you should be able to give extremely sound advice that will change the way others live their lives (give it a try, it is a lot easier to point and give directions then it is to actually move the furniture it turns out). Also, this is probably the opportune time to draw-up an unaccomplishable (another new word, you can use it) and absurd bucket list that someone else that loves you can complete after you have passed away. Tasks should include things like trekking the Gobi desert, dogsledding to the North Pole or (my favorite) rafting in the Appalachians.  If you do not have a missed dream to pass on and you love the people that love you, you can always invent something cool like going to Machu Picchu or killing a Zebra (mmm, high protein tasty cancer fighting exotic little people).

I am proud of you. That was a very long paragraph and you made it all the way through. This next part is important, so do not bail out yet. You should probably get something to drink or watch Fox News and let your brain rest.

*Intermission*

Welcome back. Are you ready? NEVER STAY OVERNIGHT AT THE HOSPITAL ALONE. You are not going to be a reliable witness if something happens with your treatment or narcotics, because you will most likely be on the narcotics in question (at this point you look and act like a homeless junky and people talk to you the way you talk to homeless junkies - and grand parents unfortunately). Most medical professionals are amazing and caring people, but not all. It is not a complicated task to fake the administration of a patient’s 3:00 AM dosage if there are no witnesses and the patient is highly medicated, possibly addicted and mentally clouded from an exhaustive surgery. So again, have a chaperone at all times – the best chaperones, by the way, are sleep deprived wives and mothers (your siblings, on the other hand, might remember the horrible things that you did to them when you were young, and therefore, can never be trusted).

Since you have brain cancer, that was probably a lot of information for you to absorb - brain cancer does not really have that much to do with it, but I do not want you to feel stupid because you have enough to worry about right now. Next week we will discuss the excitements of contracting cancer, losing your meticulously designed future, the art of re-planning, re-planning several more times again and then finally giving up.  See you then.