This Normal Life
All about "normal" life in Israel
The biggest issue I have when it comes to speaking to someone with cancer is the personification of the interlocution. It’s so narcissistic.
When both my Maltese dog and I developed cancerous and deadly tumors, the parallels proved to be unnerving.
My worst medical nightmare was averted but in its place I now have a nephrostomy: a bag on my back to collect my urine.
I once had the strangest fantasy: When I retired, I would spend most of my time engaging in one of my favorite pastimes: watching TV.
Throughout my cancer journey, one of my biggest fears has been needing to be hospitalized. That day finally arrived recently.
He introduced himself as “Yuval the smiley guy,” which was not far off for a doctor who works in the hospital department dealing with genitalia.
I don’t remember when I fell asleep or when I woke up, but I was in another room. That’s what a little fentanyl will do for you.
zIn 1971, President Richard Nixon declared a “war on cancer.” The battle cliche as stuck ever since. But is it appropriate?
As I started chemotherapy, I was prepared for my hair to fall out. Just not the way it began. My hair loss started more with a whisper than a bang.
A trifecta of physical and emotional stress washed over me, leaving me despondent over politics, war and a sudden change in my health. My cancer had come back.
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