About a year ago, I Twitter-met Tyler, a man who works as an escort.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was, uh, well, just another day in the United States of Donât Get Sick Because You W…
I get asked all the time, “Are you in remission?” I’m not sure what that even means. Once cancer strikes, it’s always kind of there. For my friend Annie Goodman, it came back, and even with health insurance, it’s expensive. Give what you can, or share this status so that others can if you can’t. Also read her Tumblr http://anniegoodman.tumblr.com.
Annie Goodman, breast cancer survivor, is now looking to raise money to help with her new battle against cancer. Please show your support! As you may or may not know, Annie is going through a tough time in her life as she once again is in the midst of battling cancer. Although the surgery she recently endured was initially successful, Annie’s doctors are still not sure what type of cancer she has. However, Annie will have to endure multiple rounds of chemotherapy. Although she does have insurance, co-payments for doctor visits, going to different cancer centers for opinions, wigs, transportation, chemotherapy and prescription medication is not cheap! Therefore, I’d like to set up this page to raise money to help her cover those costs. Annie is a tireless advocate in the cancer community. She co-hosts the Stupid Cancer Show on Mondays. The show focuses on the young adult cancer movement and all the unique issues they face. She also is a Champion for the Triple Negative Breast Cancer Foundation. She has raised thousands of dollars for the organization, in addition to all the writing and speaking she does to raise awareness. Annie is one of the strongest, sweetest and caring people I have ever known, and I know she has a lot of friends, family and co-workers out there who can contribute. Please donate what you can. Thanks so much for your support! Matt
This morning was the first of my visit to my family in St. Louis. I woke up early with the intention of going to the gym…
It took a road trip from Los Angeles, a speeding ticket, snow, rain and a car accident to make my New Orleans Thanksgiving happen this year. Read about it on Thought Catalog. http://bit.ly/hastctxgiv
H. Alan Scott wrote to Oprah during chemo. Listen to his letters and subscribe to the podcast. More coming soon!
I got to chat with the amazing Chemda of “Keith and the Girl” about my cancery testicle. Kambri Crews spotted the remaining ball. Listen and learn!
#Chemocation: Cha Cha Trigger
To everyone else it’s just another night. A friend is DJing, of course I’ll be there. My community of friends that I regularly see will be there. Drinks. Good music. Happiness. Just another night? For them. For me it’s the first time I’ve come to this particular place since chemo.
The last time I was here (Cha Cha Lounge, a bar in my neighborhood that my friend occasionally DJ’s at) was at the height of chemo. It was my first real outing, the first time most people saw me bald, saw me sick. I remember feeling eager to get out, eager to be with friends, but scared. It wasn’t, and couldn’t be, just another night. There I was, the moment a friend saw me, cancery H. Alan Scott.
"How are you feeling?"
"You look great!"
"Let me buy that club soda for you."
"Being bald suits you." This person is no longer a friend.
It was a fun night, but lonely. No longer was I funny H. Alan, I was funny H. Alan with cancer. I wasn’t just handsome, I was handsome with cancer. Even though I received so much attention, it felt like I was the only person in the room.
Now I’m back in the same bar, with hair this time, no longer sickly looking. My friends have all seen me since chemo, they know I’m fine. I feel OK, not in remission yet, but things are under control. So with all this, why can’t I be here without feeling sad?
Triggers. This is a trigger. An emotional trigger to an event in my past that I associate with a traumatic experience. Cancer landed on me like a ton of bricks a few weeks after turning 30. I had no time to prepare. By the time I got to this bar during chemo, I barely had time to process the cancer I had let alone managing a simple thing like an evening out to hear my friend DJ at a local bar with friends.
I have the shadow of cancer behind me wherever I go now. It’s very Sixth Sense, like I see dead people (if this were actually true, why hasn’t Bea Arthur visited me?). I’m afraid of what I’ll encounter next (unless it’s Bea Arthur), what will trigger off my anxiety, my fears? I’m afraid of my own life, uncertain what will happen next.
But here I am, in this bar, my friend DJing, other friends around me, drinking a club soda. Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow, all I can do is take this one day at a time, triggers and all.