Just screwing around while receiving some blood platelets….and because I’m a narcissist who likes to “photoshop” himself for fun. I’m Leucky enough to have the free time at the moment!
I haven’t seen the movie, but I do know that I’m better looking than that Paul Newjerk guy.
And yes, I did have a cigarette smuggled into the oncology unit for this picture.
I’m going to let you in on a secret. So far my #leuck levels have kept me slightly beyond the reach of the long arm of the Leukemia Law, but there is a chance that I’ll be karmically asphyxiated by my own IV line for sharing this with you:
Cancer can be beautiful.
It goes against all thought, reason, logic and belief that something synonymous with death, decay, destruction and unspeakable heartache can be beautiful…
But cancer CAN be beautiful and it IS beautiful…. if you look at it right.
We all have an image of cancer ingrained in our minds. Every person on this earth has been touched by cancer, most likely in the most negative way possible. This negativity automatically evokes tragic images of suffering, loss, sadness and pain. They probably look something like this (but far worse in most cases):
Out of all the prodding, poking, tripping and falling over my own IV chord, peeing and pooping in plastic containers, bruising, paper cuts from too much mail (humblebrag like whoa), needle stabbing, vein threading, flashburing my insides with napalm chemicals, bone sample slicing, spinal tapping, tears of pain and the ultimate battle to decide true existential worth (or lack thereof) fought by Kierkegaard and Nietzsche’s at the Bridge of Khazad-dûm….
…nothing has compared so far with the physiological/psychological trauma that came from a crippling case of THE HICCUPS. Continue reading Cancer Won’t Stop me, but the Hiccups Almost Did.
Hey Friends, Fans, Families, Lovers, Laughers, Well Wishers, Followers, Supporters,
With a lot of help from a lot of helpy helpers we are officially unveiling cancertrolling.com. HERE!
It’s basically just a migration of this blog, but with a straight up legit domain name and stuff. We’re working on getting all the old blog links to transfer over to the new site at a single click, but I figured I’d just drop you a note here and let you know that you should be accessing all things CancerTrolling over on the dot com from now on. No more need for the dot wordpress junk.
As I’ve made it blatantly aware, this blog started out as a conduit for my brain and fingerrhea, but seems to be growing into something much bigger. The support this ide has received in just over a week has inspired me to do more with my life and (dare I say) talents than the previous 30 years. Please bear with me as I go through some growing (and cancer) pains while I try to grow the scope of this brand/empire/fuckfest into its true vision.
Stay tuned for some more fun, exciting, human, real, gritty, informative content to come!!!
Anything is possible with a little #leuck
Today (1/31/2015) marks the beginning of my second round of chemo. Yes, this is the third Chemo Sesh, but there are three(ish) seshes within each round of chemo. Today’s genocidal drugs that inflated my veins like a mutant carnival balloon animal were the same compounds that first entered my bloodstream a week ago on day one. The first implementation of these drugs, as you may remember, resulted in a slight metallic taste in my mouth and some neon peach pee pees.
According to the lovely and brilliant Ashley RN, this is the dose of the chemo that I should start feeling….hence the artsy fartsy color corrected picture above! Expect some more nit, grit, snark and dark. Continue reading Chemo Sesh #3: Getting Gritty
Good Afternoon. How are you?
You weren’t kept waiting too long were you? Do you need anything a drink? Water? Coffee?
<Cancer Secretary, Did you take care of these nice people out there? Ok, thank you! Hold my calls for a while please!>
She’s fitting in so well here, I’m glad I hired her. Things have gotten MUCH better around these parts. Please have a seat.
s
I’m up all night to get blood
I’m up all night to get some
I’m up all night for nurse fun
We’re up all night to get #LEUCKY
The night between the 26th and 27th, my night nurse came in to check my vitals at midnight. I had taken my nightly Ambien (totally necessary to sleep while roiding out on Prednisone) so I was toeing the line of consciousness that exists only if you’ve forced yourself to stay awake for longer than 48 straight hours. I’m talking total misunderstanding of your own ego, the point where you aren’t sure if you are in a dream or if you ever even knew what a dream was to begin with.
I am a prissy little boy and need to shower at least once a day lest I skeev myself out by my own greasy hair. It gets oily, clumpy and grossly unmanageable if I don’t make every effort to fight nature’s cruel desire to make me look like an unkempt homeless person. This is ideally how I like my hair to look:
Continue reading Chemo Hair Loss: Having Fun with the Inevitable.
I’m sure many of you have wondered where I was able to find the motivation to adopt and maintain the – how should I put it – chipper as fuck attitude about a life-threatening cancer diagnosis. I’ve been asking myself the same thing and it didn’t take me long to realize where came from: my father’s example.
My dad, Robert “Bob” Hornyak, died almost exactly a year ago from ALS. If the massive self-inflicted waterboarding campaign for ALS didn’t educate you enough, ALS is a degenerative nerve disease that basically shuts down your brain’s ability to communicate with your body. Essentially you slowly lose the ability to control the movements and functions of your body, both voluntary and involuntary. Eventually your mind becomes a solitary confinement prisoner in the deepest cell of your body’s dungeon where nobody can hear you scream.
Like many of you, the thought of a SPINAL TAP completely freaked me out. We’ve all heard horror stories, we all know the cultural stigma (like a root canal, but so much worse that people don’t even joke about it), and we’ve all heard Ween’s drippingly creepy “Spinal Meningitis.” Well, we probably all haven’t heard that song because it’s completely insane and obscure (which is how I like my musics to be). If you didn’t take the time to listen to it, or just couldn’t get through it because you’re a wimp, it’s sung from the perspective of a little kid who is experiencing the fear of an impending spinal tap.
Why they wanna see my spine mommy?
Why they wanna see my spine?
It’s gonna hurt again mommy
Much worse than last time
Am I gonna see God, mommy?
Am I gonna die?
It really hurts mommy!
Am I gonna die?
I’m feelin’ greasy mommyPlease don’t let me die
Stinky vaseline mommy!
Please don’t let me die
Continue reading Why They Wanna See my Spine, Mommy? AM I GONNA DIE?