Here is a story told in parts … in which a father of seven discovers stage-three cancer in a southerly orifice and for some reason finds that funny.

Kurt Vonnegut’s self portrait of his asshole

This is my story. My son Jack wants me to talk about my cancer and midlife aftermath. So here we go. I’ll try to post installments once a week or so.

Below are links to each part of the story as it’s posted. The introduction is about the series, which doesn’t formally start until Part 2.  Please feel free to comment on each part or email me at with general comments.

I tell this story to inform, amuse and entertain, but also to encourage you to take better care of yourself.

Please note: by necessity, this story is kind of graphic. The series contains language and situations that might make some readers uncomfortable. But that’s sort of the point — get over it. Let’s talk about this uncomfortable stuff and maybe you’ll get yourself checked and maybe you’ll find cancer before it’s too late. (Or — let’s hope — you get checked and the doctors find no cancer. That’s an even-better happy ending.)

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Stay tuned for more