Living with brain cancer
This weekend I am honored to give the keynote speech to open the 16th Annual Young Adult Cancer Conference at Dana Farber. I have benefited immensely from this program, and cannot wait to join everyone tomorrow. My speech will be live-streamed at 9:15AM EST. You can follow via: DFCI webcast or going to the Young …
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I’m sick of being sick. I’m sick of laying on the couch. I’m sick of having to cancel plans I made months, weeks, or days in advance from grabbing a cup of coffee to going on spring break vacation. I’m sick of feeling good for a day or two, thinking I’m on the mend, only to realize I was being tricked. I’m sick of my doctors and I knowing what my symptoms are, but not knowing why. I’m sick of not knowing when I’ll feel better for a sustained amount of time.
I swayed back and forth as I climbed the ladder onto the deck of the ship. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, the salty ocean breeze waked me from my 3:00AM slumber. The mate yelled, "Jeremy, take the helm!" I tried to get my footing, stumbling onto the deck of the one-hundred-thirty-four-foot tall ship. …
I apologize that it has been almost two months since my last blog post. For many this online silence translated to concern for my well-being, and I am sorry that I made people worry. I haven’t written a post recently for several reasons. First, I wanted to spend the Holidays and my winter vacation focused …
Honored to have my essay featured online and in today's print edition of the Washington Post, originally published in Pulse: voices from the heart of medicine. I wrote this essay before my recurrence, but it still captures the complexities of identity when faced with life-threatening illness. I would like to thank Diane Guernsey and Paul Gross from …
Over the course of the past month, especially after writing my piece titled, "In Thinking About my Death, I Discovered How I Truly Wish to Live," I've heard through the grapevine that several friends are concerned I'm dying right now. To clear the air...I'm not. 😉 I can understand where this worry comes from. I …
A version of this post also appeared on Medium I sit here, exhausted, almost unable to write after my first round of immunotherapy and radiation treatments for my second recurrence of a high-grade anaplastic oligodendroglioma (read: brain cancer). I see my friends actively participating in our democratic process: campaigning, phone banking, getting out the vote. …
September 25th, 11am: I sat in my doctor's office at UCSF waiting for the results of my MRI. I've been in this same office numerous times with a picture of mountains hanging on its sterile white walls. Even as a medical student, I wonder why we design doctors' offices this way. If you're going to make it all white, keep it all white without putting up a picture of a place patients would rather be. Otherwise, and preferably, make the room more warm, welcoming...human.
For months, I had two task reminders saved to my computer’s desktop. The note on the left side of the screen listed the assignments I still had to complete for school. The note on the right side of the screen read: “Fill out advance directive.” These notes were a daily reminder of my conflicting identities. The left-side version of me: a 26-year-old medical student with many opportunities ahead; the right-side version of me: a young adult living with terminal brain cancer.
A response to the New York Times piece, “How McCain Got the Last Word Against Trump.”
