Living with brain cancer
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.”
Thank you all for the support after my last post about the rough start to treatment. I appreciate all the messages as well as food that has now filled my fridge! I've realized this has become the primary means most people receive updates regarding how I am feeling. After seeing a lot of people this …
Jeremy's Journey 