The PICC Line

Cancer’s life is a recapitulation of the body’s life, its existence a pathological mirror of our own.

–Dr. Siddhartha Mukherjee, The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer

When it comes to cancer, I am no stranger. Diagnosed with neuroendocrine carcinoid cancer at age 21, I know the terror and disbelief that comes with hearing the words “you have cancer”. I was fortunate in that my tumor was caught early enough, and surgical intervention cured me of the mass that threatened to engulf my pancreas. Some argue divine intervention on that front, but I just say it’s dumb luck.

Cancer, biologically speaking, has been an indiscriminate killer for as long as cell lines have existed. At any point, any cell in your body can go rogue and become cancerous. In fact, it might happen regularly, but for those with healthy immune systems, the natural killer cells in the body immediately recognize and destroy the abnormal cells. When this system is affected, cancer strikes. I could go on for ages about oncogenesis and the history of cancer, but there are far smarter people who have written many a book on the subject. The Emperor of All Maladies is one of my favorite books on the subject, and was also turned into a solid documentary available on Amazon Prime. I urge you to watch that, and The Way of All Flesh, a documentary about the unsung heroine Henrietta Lacks, for amazing insight into the strides we as a species have made in the battle against cancer.

Leading up to my diagnosis, I had dreams that would ultimately predict the location and size of my cancer, but that’s another story for another day. Tonight, I write about a different dream from two nights ago that has me scratching my head.

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The Star-Crossed Wanderers

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. — Edgar Allan Poe

I have never been one for blogging. Not one for much public exposition on the whole, honestly. My social media activities consist of occasionally posting pictures of pets and places, my son, tangible things, but rarely sharing anything of my self. Part of that is more due to my past than anything. A stray dog like me has many secrets.

So of course, when someone dear to me told me that I should be writing down and blogging about my all-too vivid dreams, I balked. For months. Hemming and hawing, hedging every time he brought it up. But what’s this? My first blog post? Clearly, he wore me down.

So, here it goes, guys. I can’t promise I’m any fun, but my dreams? They’re pretty damn impressive. I welcome any and all interpretations!Read More »