My health, my energy and my spirits are so up-and-down I really don’t know how I’m doing anymore.
In the past month, I have peed blood, sat down mid-stairway, napped all day, puked and fought for each breath. Thanks to a lung tap, a blood transfusion and new drugs, I have also had days of mobility, hours of easy breathing and bursts of energy. On Monday, I golfed, as badly as ever.
Some visitors have seen me folded in a chair, wheezing and falling asleep mid-conversation. One told another on Facebook: “I hear Mike isn’t doing well.”
Others might think “It’s remarkable how he’s bounced back” or “I knew he was faking.”
I think I figured out one secret to this surprising upsurge: ensure you have something to live for. You know, in case the wife and child are not enough. Six weeks ago, I was deathly ill. Then I watched The Walking Dead to its conclusion. Then Mad Men started. Now there’s Game of Thrones. I come back, week after week, to see how the season turns out. Quality television is keeping me hanging on. I realized that to live longer, I needed to find one show that literally won’t ever end. So I’ve become addicted to the nightly news. Clever, right?
Unfortunately, I picked CBC news. I may get seven months, at most.
I want to make a special appeal. I see many people wearing T-shirts that read: F— Cancer. That’s nice and all. I mean, we cancerous appreciate it. But, if you really want to help, why not f— us? Our sex lives have suffered as a result of our disease. I am wrinkled, emaciated and bald. I don’t feel sexy. I don’t feel masculine. Five years ago, I weighed 200 pounds. Now I weigh 152. (“And this time, I’m keeping it off!” — Mike O, Winnipeg, actual cancer customer.)
The big advantage to sleeping with a terminally ill person is that there will be no drama. You’ll never have to sit by the phone and wonder “Will he call?” He won’t. He doesn’t have that kind of time. “Will he remember my birthday?” Not a chance. On the other hand, you won’t have to worry about us turning creepy and stalking you. Not for more than a couple of weeks anyway.
If you do this one thing, even as a purely charitable act, you will have given another person a beautiful memory they will treasure for the rest of their lives. Again, probably a couple of weeks.
11 thoughts on “Something to live for: HBO and sex”
Too much fun. -Dawn R, virginia
Fuck….you make me laugh.
Life if a strange, strange event. I’ve watched (can’t participate, seems to be an a random self or family given event being bestowed with the ex.of.cancer) friends a nd family during their cancer time and I support sex and cable tv s a palative help. Thank you for sharing:)
Keep on laughing when you can! I had a brain tumor years ago but instead of the “how-are-you-feeling” head tilt, I told people to joke about it. “Tumor Humor” I called it. Smile whenever you can, because that beautiful little boy will remember that more than anything.
I don’t know you. I am just another SK inhabitant who enjoyed your work on Corner Gas and went looking for you when you didn’t appear in the movie. I found you here and have been laughing my ass off ever since (not necessarily a bad thing). I’ve cried too. Thanks for sharing your life with us. Your humour and spirit are inspiring. Now go get yourself some sex and HBO. I’ve kept you too long!
I’m pretty sure you’re going to get some with such a well written piece. 😉
As a fellow cancer fighter I’m all for this new approach! Great idea!
Switch to Coronation Street, Mike, for lasting motivation … and all the best to you, from Saskatchewan.
Haha yes Mike watch Cornation Street….it NEVER ends…it ran in many time spots before they lost programming and hockey…I know….I use to sell it for commercial time slots…one can only imagine how many they have now…teehee. Blessings to you my friend. I am praying and sending more energy your way with hopes of you having more Energy spurts to fit in some more activities. 😉
I don’t know why I’m still here. Probably to read you and laugh myself to death. I’m serious as a heart attack when it comes to dying and stuff and the loss my family will feel, but humor is my medicine of choice. I don’t have the cutting edge wit you have, but while I could still get there, I was a rock star at Vanderbilt Medical. My doctors thought I was a laugh riot. Did you know that Bhutan recently issued a postage stamp with penises? That announcement was a huge crowd pleaser.
The gig is up. Well, not really. Like you, I have these surges of faux well-being.
I don’t know why I’m still here.
I can’t yawn anymore. Well, I can but it’s a strangled variation that I don’t think others have noticed yet. I have an idiopathic lung disease. My lungs are hardening. I’m slowly suffocating. There’s no treatment. Because I have an odd blood problem I was handed 0% chance for a donor lung match.
Laughter is my pulmonary rehab – helps keep my lungs supple. I plan to hang out here.
Reblogged this on Saskboy's Abandoned Stuff and commented:
Mike got to stay at the Surf Motel, one last first time.