Welcome to the Cancer Club: Surviving... one laugh at a time

By Myles Beskind

Lucky you! Somebody you know has cancer, and you get to care for them. Think of all the glory you’ll get from doing the driving, household chores, calls to insurance companies, runs to the pharmacy, extra laundry loads – maybe even with bodily fluid stains, and that’s just the first month!
Maybe you’re the one with cancer. No worries (other than the whole cancer thing), you can read this book too. Make notes in the margins and hand it over to whoever you want to take care of you. Wait, on second thought, make them buy their own copy. I’ve got bills to pay too, OK? But from here on out, we’ll pretend I’m talking to that caregiver.
All kidding aside – don’t worry; there will be plenty of kidding in this book – cancer sucks, and not just for the person with the disease. It sucks for those who are helping that person get through it.
While there are lots of books out there that tell the triumphant stories of celebrities who overcome the disease and become champion athletes (see Lance Armstrong) or who return to their careers as chart-topping recording artists (see Sheryl Crow, and see Lance Armstrong disappear), and those whose battles inspire others to unite (see Susan G. Komen), I’ve never read a book that talks about cancer from the perspective of the caregiver, let alone a how-to guide. Then again, I don’t read much, but my wife does, and she’s never read a book like that either. So I guess that’s proof.
We toss around words like Hero and Warrior a little too easily these days, and unless you’re a Navy Seal hunting 7 foot Saudis in Pakistan, the labels probably don’t apply. But in your case, they do. You do your job anonymously but compassionately, humbly but lovingly, quietly but devotedly. Somebody should thank you.
Don’t look at me. It wasn’t my hair you held back while I dry heaved or scraped from the shower floor after it fell out. It wasn’t my soup you reheated four times over the two hours it took me to choke it down, and it wasn’t my daily radiation treatments you drove to for 3 weeks straight. Nope, thanking you isn’t my job.
Making you laugh? Well, that’s another story...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Myles Beskind
• Release date: Aug 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465899392

Myles Beskind

Myles is a two-time cancer survivor who has learned the power of laughter. He rediscovered writing through a blog during his second battle with colon cancer. At the encouragement of his blog readers, he now writes books to entertain those who are facing a similar situation. Are you ready to laugh at cancer?

Book preview

Welcome to the Cancer Club!

Surviving… One Laugh at a Time

By Myles Beskind

Copyright 2011 Myles Beskind

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

Cover Design by Adam Beskind and digitaldonna.com

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface

Introduction

The Part Before Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Who Cares?

Chapter 2: D-Day

Chapter 3: What Not To Say

Chapter 4: Doctor Visits

Chapter 5: Insurance Hell

Chapter 6: How Can I Help?

Chapter 7: Amateur Nurses

Chapter 8: Cancer Food

Chapter 9: Battle of the Sexes

Chapter 10: The Sex Chapter

Chapter 11: Support Groups and Other Scary Places

Chapter 12: What to Expect When You’re Metastasizing – The Procedures

Chapter 13: What to Expect When You’re Metastasizing – Side Effects

Chapter 14: Kids and Cancer

Chapter 15: Angels Among Us

Afterword

Appendix: Resources

About the Author

Preface

What make me qualified to write this book, you ask? You did ask, didn’t you?

You’ll hear about my personal battle with cancer here and there as you read this book. For now, I’ll just mention I’m a two-time survivor of colon cancer and that as of this writing, I’m alive and well. A two-timing survivor might make a good book as well. I think it would be called Mary-Anne or Ginger: The Professor’s Dilemma.

Let me introduce you to some of the other people from my life whom you’ll meet in this book.

My mom, Sandra, died from cancer on May 5th, 2001. She was 69 years young. She had beaten breast cancer in 1973 and, we thought, colon cancer in 2000. When the colon cancer came back, it didn’t take long. She was a great mother, mother-in-law, and one of the proudest, happiest grandmothers of five there ever was.

Her brother, my Uncle Joel, has beaten colon cancer at age 69, bladder cancer at 79 and Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma at 81. Uncle Joel tells a story better than anyone I know. I hope my writing is half as good as his. Better make that three-quarters.

My friend Adele, whom I’ve known since we were kids, has been battling breast cancer for the last two years and inspires me with her attitude and refusal to change who she is while doing so.

Adele’s mom, Bootsie, was a victim of the same GI who missed my mom’s cancer. Yeah, small world, isn’t it? She lost her battle 10 months before my mom did. Not long after that, Adele was visiting us and my two-year-old told us he saw Ms. Bootsie watching from outside the window of our living room. I’d like to think he really did see her and that it’s only our skeptical adult minds that wouldn’t allow us to do the same.

My wife Marcie is an amazingly resilient person. She struggled through her own chronic disease while caring for me and hadn’t had time to heal emotionally from a freak accident that nearly killed her when my second diagnosis rolled around. She has raised three children of whom we are both incredibly proud. Sure, I helped, but all the good ideas were hers. Our oldest is just 13, so I guess we have to say we are incredibly proud so far. Kids, I love you no matter what, but now that you’re old enough to read this, don’t screw it up, OK?

Wait till you read what kind of cancer Marcie’s dad Donny had! I’m happy to tell you he’s back to his old self, playing golf as often as he can and, along with her mom, babysitting our kids as often as we ask.

You’ll meet Mark and J too, but they tend to be more private about their journey, so there’s not much else to tell you about them.

Introduction

Lucky you! Somebody you know has cancer, and you get to care for them. Think of all the glory you’ll get from doing the driving, household chores, calls to insurance companies, runs to the pharmacy, extra laundry loads – maybe even with bodily fluid stains, and that’s just the first month!

Maybe you’re the one with cancer. No worries (other than the whole cancer thing), you can read this book too. Make notes in the margins and hand it over to whoever you want to take care of you. Wait, on second thought, make them buy their own copy. I’ve got bills to pay too, OK? But from here on out, we’ll pretend I’m talking to that caregiver.

All kidding aside – don’t worry; there will be plenty of kidding in this book – cancer sucks, and not just for the person with the disease. It sucks for those who are helping that person get through it.

While there are lots of books out there that tell the triumphant stories of celebrities who overcome the disease and become champion athletes (see Lance Armstrong) or who return to their careers as chart-topping recording artists (see Sheryl Crow, and see Lance Armstrong disappear), and those whose battles inspire others to unite (see Susan G. Komen), I’ve never read a book that talks about cancer from the perspective of the caregiver, let alone a how-to guide. Then again, I don’t read much, but my wife does, and she’s never read a book like that either. So I guess that’s proof.

We toss around words like Hero and Warrior a little too easily these days, and unless you’re a Navy Seal hunting 7 foot Saudis in Pakistan, the labels probably don’t apply. But in your case, they do. You do your job anonymously but compassionately, humbly but lovingly, quietly but devotedly. Somebody should thank you.

Don’t look at me. It wasn’t my hair you held back while I dry heaved or scraped from the shower floor after it fell out. It wasn’t my soup you reheated four times over the two hours it took me to choke it down, and it wasn’t my daily radiation treatments you drove to for 3 weeks straight. Nope, thanking you isn’t my job.

Making you laugh? Well, that’s another story…

***

The Part Before Chapter 1

We need a name for those of us who have been diagnosed with cancer. Over at Livestrong, they’re big on survivor, which I like because I am one, but some people assume that term only applies once somebody in a white lab coat declares you cancer-free. Victim sounds a little too helpless. Patient is something they call us at the doctor’s office or the hospital, but not something I’d call somebody I just met at a cancer fundraiser. No, we need an entirely different metaphor.

Welcome to the Cancer Club, where despite the high dues and benefits of questionable value, membership is growing by leaps and bounds! See, it sounds better already. So when I refer to your Member of the Club (or MOTC for short, try sounding it out MAHT-see), you’ll know I’m talking about that person who you are caring for – you know, the one with cancer.

***

Chapter 1: Who Cares?

When it comes to cancer, who cares? Who