Disclaimer
Glad you're here!
Before we get started, you should know that this book demands a disclaimer of sorts.
Consider it our reader-author contract – yours and mine – established solely to manage expectations. What you’re about to read is not what you think it is. Or maybe you read the book blurb and reviews, and you know exactly what you’re in for.
And you want it.
A Sojourner's Cancer Chronicles is my cancer story, based on real events, bolstered with facts, and possibly sprinkled with chemo-induced hallucinations brought on by exhaustion. All part of the process, I assure you.
My cancer experience is unique but not novel – at least, that’s what my medical team assured me. Many of us have had our lives turned inside out with three dreaded words: “You have cancer.”
We're not alone.
According to the CDC, more than 1.7 million people in the U.S. hear these words every year.
Although many cancer stories share similar elements, our journeys are not identical. With more than a hundred cancer types upending lives every year, according to the National Cancer Institute, patients will likely find themselves in extraordinary situations of treatment, recovery and remission. However, these patients also participate in many common tribulations, whether experiencing getting a port for the first time, shrugging off the apprehension that comes with radiation treatments, or trying to find something to eat – and keep down.
These commonalities unite us and make us part of a growing IYKYK (If You Know, You Know) club, even though no one asked for a cancer-chapter club membership.
Regardless of the stage or type of cancer, one thing is true in all cases. You can expect the disease to profoundly impact every element of a patient's life, from the daily routines they establish to how often they communicate with family members and friends. For many, a cancer diagnosis is serious, and it's not something to make light of. However, sharing our stories and finding funny moments may help cancer patients and their caregivers unite in their fight against the disease.
In no way should a reader assume that this book trivializes cancer. Instead, I learned to respect the disease but relied on levity to get me through diagnosis, treatment and recovery.
Humor creates a psychological shift that lightens an emotional load. Laugh, and your brain releases the feel-good chemicals called endorphins that reduce stress and boost mood. Hilarity is a natural pressure valve, allowing us to let out some of the tension that builds up in tough times.
The stress hormone cortisol often spikes when someone’s terrified or feels hopeless; humor tamps those levels back down and balances physiological wellness. Returning to that baseline, also called normalizing, is essential for overall well-being.
Finding something funny, even in the darkest moments, helps people distance themselves from overwhelming situations and gain a sense of control. Think of this playfulness as a mental reset—laughter doesn’t erase the problem, but it can make it feel less suffocating. Humor often creates a bond that helps people survive emotionally -- and a cancer diagnosis is undoubtedly emotional.
Laughing at cancer doesn't deny reality; it defangs it a little.
Many people use humor to create connections. Comicality shows we're not alone in the face of tragedy. Our laughter builds solidarity, so the connection between humor and despair can be a lifeline when gloom tries to isolate us. Plus, turning to humor is subversive—a droll metaphor for sticking a middle finger to fear by refusing to let it dominate entirely.
Being funny doesn’t fix everything, of course. But it’s a hell of a lot better than wallowing.
This book tries to seeks humor where fear, shock, and even anguish often take center stage. If you like grossly inappropriate flippancy at awkward moments, this book is for you.
I hope you enjoy reading it, whether you pick at the chapters that seem most relevant or read the book straight through.
And maybe you'll take some time to laugh with me in the face of cancer.
Let’s jump in,
Debi