Chronicles of a
Cancer Patient

Hello everyone -

It’s hard to come up with a good way to say this in an e-mail, especially a mass e-mail, but I thought that perhaps this was the best way to let everyone know. Some of you may know that I’ve been particularly ill as of late, and that the doctors have had a difficult time finding exactly what the disease is. For those of you who haven’t heard any of this yet, consider yourselves lucky that you didn’t have to go through the months of playing the “Disease of the Week” game, where each week I would be whole-heartedly convinced that I had some exotic ailment like Malaria of the p.vivax strain, or the very unlikely Thalysemia, or the almost unknown Whipple’s Disease.

It was just a week ago that the doctors were aggressively testing for one of these strange, mystic diseases – when suddenly the tests all came back wrong and in just a couple phone calls, everything seemed to fall apart. At least, that’s how it felt to me.

A few more tests in a different direction confirmed the findings. I have cancer.

I have a cancer called lymphoma. This is a cancer of the lymph nodes and, I’m glad to say, a very curable kind of cancer. I’m told that with the proper treatment, 97.9% of lymphoma patients survive. Nevertheless, it is cancer and I’ll have to go through all of the cancer rituals to get rid of it. Chemotherapy will begin soon, followed by whatever else it takes to get rid of this.

This is difficult. But I can handle this, I will beat this, and I will come out a better man in the end. I am looking forward to being a cancer survivor.

If I can’t have my health, I’m glad that I still have my family and friends. It is a relief to know that I will have you all with me as I go through this. I understand that it is hard to know what to say in a situation like this, but please don’t be shy. This is a fine opportunity to make jokes about me losing my hair, etc., etc.

I look forward to seeing you all again soon.

Future Cancer Survivor,
Dave Hahn

P.S. – I’m afraid I don’t have the e-mail addresses of everyone that I’d like to send this to. Please feel free to pass this on.

If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn’t lead anywhere. ~Frank A. Clark

I have Hodgkins Lymphoma, what is also called Hodgkins Disease. This is cancer of the lymph nodes. This is one of the most curable kinds of cancers, as it responds remarkably well to chemo therapy. There are other kinds of lymphoma, all classed as “non-Hodgkins” lymphomas, and, as I understand it, the cure rate for these kinds of cancer is not as good.

There is a great deal of information available on the web about Hodgkins Disease. For an overview, I would recommend the Mayo Clinic’s website: Hodgkins Disease.

One website I’ve found interesting has been Bill Bujake’s Hodgkins Journal, which talks at length about his experience fighting and curing the disease.

Tonight I had what I will refer to from now on as “the worst gig ever.” My thanks to my friend Shawn and his phoney booking agency in Chicago for hooking me up with it.

But I’m glad that I was healthy enough to be playing even a bad gig (an atrocious gig). The effects of the chemo were a little rough for the first few days of this week, but now 4 days later, I’m feeling well enough to complain about other things.

If anybody is interested, I’ll be continuing my stint as the piano player for the Brazilian gun-twirler and self-proclaimed comedic singer at an Italian restaurant downtown all weekend. You must like feedback and Puerto Rican jokes.

Last night’s gig was labeled a “complete disaster” by everyone involved, and the remainder of the performances have been canceled by the booking agency. See? Some prayers are answered.

The booster shots they give me during chemo encourage my bone marrow to overproduce red and white blood cells. This will ensure that I’m strong enough to continue the treatments.

It’s hard to appreciate how many bones you have in your body until they all start hurting at once. It’s over now, but yesterday my bones screamed out like a wicked choir in a clench-your-teeth-and-wait-for-it-to-pass kind of pain.

I’ve heard it said that if ever you wanted to forget your troubles, you should just wear shoes that are too small. I can say that by yesterday evening my mind was completely clear, save for the total focus on my over-producing skeleton.

I’m fine now. And I probably have more big, healthy red and white blood cells now than I’ll ever know what to do with. If we had a red blood cell contest today, I would beat all of you, so don’t even try it.

I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders. ~ Jewish Proverb

I’m glad so many of my friends have come to read and comment. That’s good, because I need to make a small announcement:

Remember all that weight I lost last year? Well – funny story about that – it was apparently not due to what a hot stud I was, or to eating better, or to working out, or to anything else that I might have bragged about during the past year of grinning and gloating.

Therefore, as I do not condone the use of diseases to lose weight, I retract any dieting advice, especially all the dieting advice, I doled out during the past year.

And I’m not saying I necessarily will, but just for you sticklers out there: I reserve the right to stop being such a sickly-looking thing and to get good and fat after all this is over. Pass me another cookie.

In case anybody is throwing a sweet party anytime soon and you need some new music, my favorite cancer song (yes, I now have a favorite cancer song) is “Chemo Limo” by Regina Spektor.

Chemo Limo, Regina Spektor:
Song Clip
Lyrics
Artist Website

1. (Zool.) A genus of decapod Crustacea, including some of the most common shore crabs of Europe and North America, as the rock crab, Jonah crab, etc. See {Crab}.

2. (Med.) Formerly, any malignant growth, esp. one attended with great pain and ulceration, with cachexia and progressive emaciation. It was so called, perhaps, from the great veins which surround it, compared by the ancients to the claws of a crab. (1913 webster)