When I think about prostate cancer, I see myself and the men I’ve been close to as ducks in a shooting gallery. The passage of time gives the Grim Reaper more chances to take a shot at us.
Ping.
My dad got prostate cancer twenty years ago.
When I Think About Prostate Cancer Read More »
I met George Sheehan, a noted cardiologist as well as a legendary runner and writer about running, in August of 1986. I had been designated to pick him up at the airport in Aspen, Colorado, late the night before he was to speak at a conference that I was managing. We hit it off immediately.
That first meeting, I learned several months later, happened to fall only a few days after he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer.
Spend Your Life Learning How to Live Read More »
My Father’s Prostate Read More »
I am an independent woman, used to taking care of myself and others. But that self-image was dashed five years ago, when I fell and shattered my elbow.
I tried to gather my dropped purse and Chinese takeout but didn’t realize I couldn’t even gather my body until a stranger knelt beside me and said, “Let me stabilize your arm.The ambulance is on the way.”
Discovering Dependence Read More »
What If the “N of One” Is Me? Read More »
Unexpected Repercussions Read More »
Amulya Iyer ~
The professors,
they teach us
the types of diuretics,
their effects on the tubules–
convoluted or not.
They tell us to check
for pitting edema,
and grade it to see
how bad it has gotten.
But who teaches
the student
to kneel by the woman,
her legs swollen,
her heart failing in her chest–
to slip off old shoes,
roll down damp socks,
and touch her feet
as if asking
to be blessed?
Cheri GecklerÂ
About the artist:
About the artwork:
Visuals editor:
Sara Kohrt
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