Patient & Researcher Blog
Here I aim to capture what I am learning as a newbie researcher from a patient perspective.
Living with a slow growing brain cancer
It is taboo for researchers to talk about their work before it is published.
I think that’s a bummer.
My favorite part about research is learning new things in real time. Here I share my observations as a learner and my n of 1 (personal) findings as a patient.
Note: I started blogging about brain cancer in 2008, at age 29.
I had no background or knowledge about healthcare when I began. Please excuse typos and other misconceptions. What you read here is me in real time, like a time capsule.
There are more than 500 posts here. Use this search to look for something specific. Good luck!
To have a slow-growing brain tumor
"But really, aren't there cases when grade twos just stay a grade two forever?" I implied that with my youth, health and intelligence, someone as awesome as I must be spared from this injustice.
Changing careers during brain cancer
The one thing truly holding me back was the cost of health care, and worrying about the 90 days it takes to qualify for the new employer's health plan.
Each moment is bittersweet
“Are you ever afraid that one day I will be dead and you wish you cuddled me more?”
Can chemotherapy mess with your hair’s ability to regrow?
All the bad crap in your body comes out at some point or another, and it often leaves through your hair
What is making me dizzy? The inner ear or the parietal lobe
After my alarm went off I got in the shower, dizzy still. I held myself up with the walls. I leaned on the counter as I brushed my teeth. I wrapped myself in a towel and watched Brett do his morning push-ups.
I'm here. I have cancer. Get used to it.
It has been freeing to let loose a big secret that has defined my life over the past 2+ years. It is like I've come out of the cancer closet.
Chemo for the last time: I guess I have some survivorship to get used to?
The post chemo transition was kind of difficult for me, as I went from "doing something" to "waiting for the anvil to drop.”
Transitioning from treatment to survivor “anxiety” is normal
If I listened to my own advice I'd know that this transition phase is going to suck, but I will never have to do it again.
Who am I without chemotherapy?
I can count on my hands the number of days it will be until I begin my last week of chemotherapy. I am overjoyed. And excited. And ready to be done. And I am completely terrified.