Published on Jul 9, 2012

Miranda Gold’s Crohn’s Disease Comedy Routine

By Megan Oates

“You have cancer.”

I replayed his words over and over…and over. I looked straight ahead and saw nothing; the room was a blur of colour. I felt faint. It was the most dreamlike feeling. In that moment I was so aware of everything I was doing; it was as if I could only blink in slow motion. It was beyond surreal. My heart sank. I could hear my unsteady breathing. I could feel my chest as if it was rising a mile each time I took a breath. If the doctor continued to speak, I heard nothing. I was completely and utterly numb.

I felt my heart beat pound in my ears and I felt the blood drain from my face. The tears came and I could not stop them.

I looked intently at the faces of my parents. Both seemed to be in disbelief, gazing into an ethereal cloud of reality that had just dawned upon us. I wish I could have known what they were both thinking at that very moment.

I’m sure no parent ever wants to be told that their seventeen year old daughter has cancer.

I looked out the window into the brilliant sun. The clouds seemed to [...] continue the story

For all of my early life, I was the good, compliant, patient. I took whatever pills the doctor prescribed, did whatever tests h/she (most always a HE) wrote for. Believed that whatever he said was the absolute truth. He had been to med school. He knew what was wrong with me even though he didn’t live in my body 24/7 and experience what I did.

I know a lot of people are still like this. Their doctor is like a god to them. He can do no wrong – even if they don’t feel any better after treatment, even if they feel worse. “But the doctor said…”

Anyway, I digress.

All this changed for me in 1983.

At first I noticed I’d stopped having my periods and, of course, I thought I was pregnant. I went to my Gynecologist who had no explanation. Lots of women lose their periods for a variety of reasons so no one thought that this was really significant.

Then I got really tired, overly tired. I would take my son to a half hour Choir rehearsal and could not stay awake for the whole time. I would lie down in the back of the van, set an alarm and sleep for [...] continue the story

By Dan Hennessey

At age 49, happily married and the father of two girls, prostate cancer was the last thing on my mind. My work as a realtor kept me on the go day and night, and I stayed fit playing hockey and golf and running. But some things seem to catch up to you no matter your age or lifestyle. The new doctor in my life, Dr. Andrew Humphrey, noticed that I hadn’t had the dreaded annual rectal exam in a few years. This test saved my life, I believe, but also changed it forever. Dr. Humphrey was quick to refer me to a urologist, Dr. Greg Bailly, who sent me for a biopsy.

All this occurred early in December 2005. But with Christmas approaching, the results would have to wait until January 2006. This holiday was one to remember, with thoughts of what the future might bring always on my mind.

The day I received the call from Dr. Bailly telling me that I had prostate cancer, my wife was away on business and I was at home with our one-year-old. Thoughts spun around in my head: Wasn’t this something that older men got? How fast can we get this thing [...] continue the story

I am 52 years old, and I have had NF-1 since birth, the result of a spontaneous mutation. My parents are deceased, and I have two older sisters, both unaffected. I have cutaneous and plexiform tumors. NF mostly affects the left side of my body, including vision, hearing, and some motor function.

I was diagnosed at 2 yrs of age by our family doctor, and have had almost as many surgeries as birthdays.

I have a Masters degree in Counseling, am a Certified Professional Coder, and just finishing up an Associate’s Degree in Health Information Technology, the result of a midlife career change. I currently work as a caregiver while I complete my degree.

I was married once; I’m now divorced and single and happy. My personal mantra is: I am a woman with NF, but my NF does NOT define me or defeat me.