In April of 2018, I began to have severe asthma symptoms while playing soccer. Then, increasing fatigue throughout the day. Soon, I was only able to play a few minutes at a time, and I wanted to be in bed by 7PM. After seeing an asthma specialist, these symptoms appeared related to asthma, allergies, mild anemia, and being generally old. I took inhalers, iron supplements, and continued my vegan diet. But I kept getting worse, and in LAX, on the way to the Paris Gay Games in August, I coughed up remarkable amounts of blood, like horror movie amounts. Cut to a CT Scan which showed a 9cm large mass in my anterior mediastinum (fancy talk for “front of the chest”) leaking into my right upper lung and hanging onto the upper arteries of my heart, brief hospital stay, needle core biopsy, blood work, and voila — here I am, cancer boy, at your service.
The experts tell me it’s Stage 2 Hodgkins Lymphoma. That’s great news. Seriously. Highly treatable, wonderful prognosis. If the plan sticks, after 6 months of chemo, twice a month, maybe some radiation thereafter, my chest will be evacuated of the giant troll and any others that may be hiding. That’s right, I have deemed that the tumor is indeed a troll. None of my doctors concur with my assessment, but in time they will understand.
In the past I’ve used this site as a career landing page so anyone who might want to hire me could see how very cool I am. You can still see that stuff if you click on the menu, but this part of the site is now a blog to provide information and status updates for friends, family, enemies, and cyber strangers alike so y’all can stay in the loop and hear some stories from the not-so-deep trenches of this disease. I’ll be posting periodically to all the “socials” (how I detest that word), so you’ll know when to cruise over here and catch up on your stories.
A couple of FAQ’s to begin:
Why did this happen?
A very unique combination of genetics, karma, and excessive masturbation.
I don’t know, but here we are.
Am I going to die?
Yes, we all will, but probably not from this. The treatment is a gold-standard cocktail of 4 medicines that has been proven over decades to work. I know this, in part, because my dear friend Jackie Burton had the same disease years ago and just celebrated her 11 year cancer-free anniversary. We ran the full NY Marathon in 2015 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. How’s that for irony?
What do I need?
Right now, nada. I’m lucky and grateful to have many family members and friends checking in and assisting day-to-day I’m up to my ears in medical and nutrition advice, survivor stories, and somber looks. I don’t need any more alternative healing suggestions, though I appreciate the sentiments and the talk of energy and vibes and vitamin C enemas. I’m in very high spirits and have a sense of humor about the whole thing. Cancer, tumor, and troll jokes welcome.
Between acting and writing gigs, I was doing handyman and cleaning work to make ends meet, but the disease and its treatment are preventing me from continuing those rewarding trades. So, I will need some financial help soon to help with living and medical expenses. Stay tuned for a go-fund-me page or some such when the time comes.
Where Am I?
My health insurance plan in CA was a scam run by capitalist neanderthals, so I’ve moved to Saratoga Springs, NY to live with my brother. The insurance navigators at Saratoga Hospital were angels in helping me secure an excellent plan when time was not on my side. If there’s a God, she ought to bless them with all good things and endless pumpkin spiced lattes. My brother’s house lives up to my ludicrous tidy standards and there is plenty of space for my dog Ryeley to roam, scamper, and sniff the local flora and fauna.
How do I feel?
I’m tired. I’m short of breath and coughing a lot. I have some pain in my chest from the troll and from this rad port they put in so they can give me chemo without destroying my veins. Other than that, I’m feeling fucking awesome.
Should I reach out?
Sure, but only if you want to. Anyone is welcome to text or call, and if you are into the letter writing thing, I love that, so just ask me for the address and I’d be happy to share it on a case-by-case basis. In my experience, cancer and traumatic life events bring people out of the wood work, myself included, and cause us to recognize the trivial nature of grievances or other neuroses that were barriers to communication before. If that’s the case, vaya con díos and holler at me. Just don’t take it personal if I don’t respond right away or at all, I might lose track of the text or just be neck deep in one of my sister’s home cooked vegan meals.