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, January 11, 2010

Oi, Manchester!

You Mancunians ... what are you doing April 17th?

Fancy a nice healthy walk?

Check this out.

Maybe I'll see you there ... as long as I can bring my four-legged friend for company...

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

"You're in remission now, so p*ss off."

I thought it was just me and a few like-minded folks out here in the wilderness shouting at the health professionals that once your cancer treatment is finished, you're politely told to do something connected with sex and travel - if you're lucky, maybe "come back next year for a checkup." And that's it. Diddly squat.

As many of you will know from experience, while you're going through chemo and radiotherapy you feel supported and cocooned by doctors, nurses and other wallahs plus the whole cancer system itself. This is generally considered to be an important part of your therapy; you are not alone, you have a key worker or other mentor you can call in the middle of the night and rant at if you want to, and on your regular visits to the onco unit or "tanning booths" you're warmly welcomed and entertained by all your friends and co-patients.

As soon as the treatments end though, you get pushed over the cliff and you're on your own. All that nice, comfy support, cups of tea, letters, pamphlets, cosy chats, little ring-binders with your treatment notes in them etc. etc. vaporise in an instant and you're dumped back in the world of real life, feeling about as fit for coping with it as a one-legged man at a butt-kicking party.

At last, here in the UK, Macmillan Cancer Support - bless 'em - are campaigning for the system to stop abandoning successfully-treated cancer patients like stolen cars by the side of the road, and get them - or rather, us - the follow-up care we need.

Macmillan not unreasonably are focusing on the medical issues involved in post-cancer care here, but I hope they don't forget the psychological side of it - we cancer patients get withdrawal symptoms when our toy-toys and security blankets are whipped out from under our noses. But we can hardly rate as spoilt brats who should just be told to grow up and get on with it.

This article on the BBC website makes interesting reading.

What do you think?

Sunday, January 03, 2010

Happy 2010

Greetings to all in this new decade and I hope you had a wonderful Holiday season. I've had some welcome time off from BCG+Interferon bladder treatments - boy, did they make me pee razorblades - and have no further Chinese torture until I go for a "poke and peek" early February.

And now, while we're on the subject of uro cancers, a little story to start the New Year:

A patient visited his urologist for testicular cancer and expressed concern about being able to perform after the operation. The patient was also worried about the chemotherapy.

The doctor said "I too had testicular cancer a few years ago. Ten days after the operation I made passionate love with my wife, and forgot all my worries. Try it and see for yourself."

Three weeks later the patient returned, and thanked the doctor effusively. The doctor said "I'm glad my advice helped."

The patient thanked him again, and as he was leaving said "By the way Doctor, you have a really beautiful house."

With thanks to The Furry Monkey for the loan of this gag - check out his cancer jokes but be warned, some of them are not for the faint-hearted.