CLL Diary has gotten a couple of nice write-ups recently. It is occasionally reassuring to know that while I can blather on endlessly, I am not blathering on uselessly.
CR, the magazine of the American Association for Cancer Research, features this blog in its Spring 2007 issue. CR profiles a different patient blog in every issue, and writer Alanna Kennedy somehow managed to stumble across mine. The article talks about how I use humor to cope with leukemia and provides an excerpt from The President's Club, a piece in which I complained that us regular chemo customers -- people with chronic diseases -- ought to get the royal treatment, similar to what airlines and casinos do for their best customers. If you follow the link and read it, do read the comments also -- I managed to snag a lousy free hotel room upgrade, but one of the commenters got an even better deal.
CR, which celebrates its first anniversary with this issue, is billed as “a magazine about people and progress in cancer.” They sent me four back issues and I can say that it’s quite well done, with an excellent selection of subject matter that covers both the science of cancer and the experience of coping with it. And I am not just saying this because they did a story on my blog. It’s more reflective and less full of obvious entry-level tips than some similar magazines.
CLL Diary also got a nice mention in Family Practice Management, a publication of the American Academy of Family Physicians. An article Family Practice Meets the Blogosphere reassures physicians that blogs might just be a good thing. The author uses this blog as an example of the good kind of patient blog, not the crazy kind, and says of me, “His thoughtful entries examine the frustrations of the disease and the uncertainties of medicine. His blog site includes links to other CLL blogs, online support groups and sources of medical information.”
I may go crazy at some point in the future, of course, so these articles will have to serve as evidence in any sanity hearing that may come up at that time. Once I go off the deep end, I will probably adopt every stray cat in my zip code and let the yard turn into a jungle. I can see myself now, sitting on my decaying porch, paper bag wrapped around a bottle of pinot noir, meowing back at the cats while Marilyn decorates all of them with stick-on Christmas bows while sipping sherry. The fact that this sounds at all appealing means I really need a vacation.
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