Cancer Comic Strip

My name is Suzan St Maur and I've had cancer twice. I find that humor helps me get through my cancer, and from what I understand it helps many others too. This blog is dedicated not to information about the disease, but to cancer warriors and their relatives/friends who just want some cheering chuckles. By all means share your funny stories and jokes with us - email them to suze @ (If you want to know more about me see my profile on here or

Monday, April 23, 2007

Talking of bladder cancer, did I ever tell you about...

...a few years ago when I was the writer/interviewer on a video production about the male urinary tract?

Anyway ... as bladder cancer and its somewhat eye-squinting treatment is now back on my mind after a welcome break, here's a story that should bring a smile to the lips of most women and a tear to the eye of most men.

Once upon a time I was scriptwriter and interviewer on a video production sponsored by a pharmaceutical company to promote its product which was an opaque medium used in a process called videocystourethrography. Sounds good? Means it was something injected into you which showed up on an X-ray, so that video cameras could track your wee-wee as it exited your body.

On the day concerned we had a subject who was willing to be shown on the programme - an elderly man. For reasons best known to the wallahs this elderly man required not one, not two but three catheters to be inserted up him; two up his willy and one up his back passage.

By the time we got to the insertion of catheter number two, our director - a gallant young man - was on the point of unconsciousness. "Suze," he gasped while fighting to stay aware, "I can't cope with this. You'll have to direct it."

Well, I'm not sure how many people in show business have experienced their directorial debuts by default, but I sure did. With a slightly bemused Suze in command we shot the scene in one take and bang, it was "in the can."

Sadly so was the director, but in an entirely different metaphorical "can" ... that of the lavatorial kind. Poor guy. Let's hope he never needs to have his bladder examined ...


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