Well, tomorrow's #10. Ten joint replacements. I guess I'm a deca-replacer (that's a horrible name, I'll work on it). I'm getting my right knee replaced, again. The first time was a partial replacement that did well for a few years, but pain has cropped up in other parts of the knee, so, time to hack it out. I still have a few surgeries after that, but it's a good step toward being able to live a better life. And also to being a robot. That's the ultimate goal. And getting the world record for most joints replaced. I guess there's a lot of goals.
The other goal is my book. Over the last few weeks I've been putting out a lot of feelers with regards to my memoir, Surviving the Cure: Cancer was Easy,* Living is Hard, and it's paying off. I've gotten interest from a couple national cancer magazines about my story and work to educate people about the challenges survivors face after cancer. I'm crossing my fingers about getting it published, so we'll see where it goes.
And, do you want to win free copies of my book and other prizes? I'm running a referral contest on Surviving the Cure's IndieGoGo campaign. You can either donate, yourself, or you can share the campaign and get free prizes based on how much your friends and family donate. All you have to do is go to the campaign page, find the share tools to the right of the "Back It" button, and use that so your referrals can be tracked and rewarded! The money is going to helping me raise awareness for the challenges cancer survivors face in order to improve their support and quality of care, and also to let them know they aren't alone in having to deal with problems.
I'll update you guys after surgery, when I'm coherent enough to update you, anyway.
Well...coherent-ish.
Ciao
PS: If you buy the hard copy of my book and bring it to me, I'll sign it. Even if I'm not that coherent, which might make it really interesting.
I am proud to announce that Surviving the Cure: Cancer was Easy,* Living is Hard is now available to purchase on Amazon as an ebook! It's been a long four years to get my memoir published, but it's finally out there, folks. Click here to buy the book!
This is a major step in my efforts to raise awareness for the difficulties that face cancer survivors after they enter remission. While most people think once you "beat" cancer, that's the end of the story, the truth is: cancer is only the beginning, and life after cancer ain't no walk in the park. If you want to learn more about the many potential challenges that crop up for survivors, read my book and learn the truth about the least discussed, and one of the most important, aspects of cancer.
If you want to help my advocacy for cancer survivors, please check out my crowdfunding campaign and watch the video. The donations not only go toward the book, but also to help increase my efforts to increase awareness for survivorship and let others survivors know they are not the only ones battling the issues they face. You can also receive perks for donating, including signed copies of the book or inclusion on a special thank you page in the next edition.
Here is what doctors and survivors are saying about
Surviving the Cure: Cancer was Easy,* Living is Hard
"Andrew Bundy's captivating
memoir has an unexpected focus seldom explored in the story of
cancer: survivorship. [He] invites us into the intimate, deeply
private struggle of coming to terms with life after cancer. With humor
and candor, Andrew sends a powerful message about
the significant medical and emotional issues that shape life after
treatment and illuminates the critical need for programs that
support young cancer survivors."
Anna Pawlowska, MD
Director, Pediatric
Hematopoietic Stem Cell Transplant Program City
of Hope Medical Center
"Holy $%*!, your story is almost EXACTLY
my own. And your thoughts and feelings. Gave me chills…It is incredible to know
there is someone out there that COMPLETELY understands."
Rebecca Acute Myeloid Leukemia Survivor—17
years in remission
***
For all those who buy the book
The print copy of the book will soon be available. It is still in review, but should be ready within the next 24 hours if everything goes well. And I would encourage anyone who purchases the book to please leave a review on Amazon. It goes a long way to helping boost visibility of my message about the challenges of survivorship. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!
PS: For those unfamiliar with my story or the memoir, please direct your attention to the top of the page to read the About Me page and the Memoir page.
So, as most of you know, I'm getting ready to publish my memoir, Surviving the Cure: Cancer was Easy,* Living is Hard (*relatively speaking). And now, I've set a release date: February 28, 2017. That's right, in one week, this, all of this, will be DONE and ready for YOUR consumption! My relief is indescribable. Four years of sweat, tears, and blood (mostly from paper cuts) have gone into writing this thing, plus nearly a full decade of cancer-ness, side effect-ness, and existence-ness that is the foundation of the book, and now it's about to be thrust into the world to make a difference.
If you want to learn more about my memoir and see advanced praise from doctors and survivors alike, click here for more information.
But that's not all I've been working on. I've also just opened an IndieGoGo Crowdfunding Campaign to help raise money to spread the message about the truth of life after cancer and to help with my future survivorship advocacy efforts. All donations are welcome, and there are some awesome perks for donating! Including Social Media Shout Outs and Signed Copies of Surviving the Cure! And they're even signed by ME! Le gasp!
Please share our Crowdfunding Campaign, and also our YouTube video! Want to see me get slapped? Then you'll love this video!
And because you guys are so awesome, I'm also including a sneak peek at my memoir!
Until we meet again. Well, not meet. Until you visit again? Something like that.
Ciao
Bump
In a way, it was a soothing motion—the gentle rocking back and forth as the uneven wheels rolled across the linoleum floor, surrounded by neutral white walls.
“Watch out for the bump,” the orderly said.
In another time, another place, to another person, it would have been hilarious.
“Watch out!” As if I had some control over whether we would be going over the bump or not. As if anything I did could affect the oncoming obstacle. Some part of me must have laughed, but it didn’t bother sharing the joke with the rest of my numbed body.
In terms of humor, it’s hard to beat a hefty dose of irony doing its best impersonation of a cream pie. Wham! Unavoidable, literally in your face—shocking, instantaneous. Today, that cream pie was this orderly, wheeling me to a fate I could never have even begun to imagine, warning me about this little bump when not thirty minutes earlier I’d had the mother of all bombshells dropped on my head. When my life and future vaporized so quickly and completely that all that remained were faint shadows where once they stood.
In the rare moments of lucidity during the slow walk—I guess more of a roll—I marveled at how quickly a life could come apart. How fragile and on the verge of collapse we are that the tiniest thing can be enough to topple our body. It’s like you’re a house of cards that believes it’s constructed from steel and concrete and mortar so tough that nothing short of the destruction of the Earth would topple it. That’s why it’s so shocking when you learn the truth—that under the thin veneer of confidence and surety is a wobbly framework ready to implode at the drop of a hat.
A week. That’s all it took for my house of cards to come crashing down. From young adult on the cusp of spreading his wings and embarking on his first flight of independence to a mess of malfunctioning cells. From a bright life ahead to an imminent dark death. And all it had taken was one word.
Leukemia.
“Watch out for the bump.” I had as much control over that bump as I did the next few months. Maybe more. I could have gotten out of the chair and stepped over this obstacle. I didn’t, but at least it was an option. My future offered no real options. Chemical warfare or certain death, take your pick. “A wise choice, sir. We have an excellent selection of noxious chemicals for you today, only the very best vintage for you, young sir!”
For both the bump and my new life, all I could do was hold on tight and pray for the best…and hope that would be enough.