The Private Man

Attraction and dating information for all men

My Cancer

[Note: I’ll be keeping my readers updated about my eye cancer on this page via the comments below. After reading the actual blog post, scroll down to read the many updates in chronological order – oldest to newest.

Yes, I have serious health issues but my passion for giving good attraction and dating advice is more important than a rather messed up eyeball. I will be moderating comments more heavily so don’t be upset if your comment doesn’t make it through. However, I will be reading every comment regardless. And I’ve got a Patreon thing going. Help out, please.]

Late September, 2013:

Meet Fred, my tumor. It’s the dark mass in the upper-right of the photo.


This is a rather personal post because this past week has been rather eventful for me. A routine eye exam last Friday led to a visit to the worst type of doctor to be referred to. I don’t mean the proctologist. I mean oncologist, the cancer specialist.

My appointment today was with my new retinal oncologist. Put simply, I have eye cancer. More specifically, I have a choroidal melanoma. It’s a rare cancer with only four in a million people affected by it. Because it’s a melanoma, the cancer is considered malignant and so my doctor(s) must act quickly lest it spread.

I received the diagnosis just three days ago when I went to the Rand Eye Institute at the absolute insistence of the first eye doctor I saw. In fact, he wanted me to go the same day I saw him. I went on Monday. The retinologist (there is such a thing) did some serious examinations – including an ultra sound. Then he sat me down to look at photos of both retinas. It was quite clear the my right retina wasn’t right. The appointment with the retinal oncologist was made. His parting words “stay off the Internet” meaning “your research will freak you out.”

Of course I did my research and yes, I did get freaked out. Enucleation – eyeball removal – is one of the common “treatments”. Another treatment is plaque radiation. I get to keep my eye but radiation retinopathy will ultimately result. No matter which one, my right eye is basically fucked. I spent a couple of days wondering what it would be like to have only one eye. That’s a mental exercise I thought I would never have in my life.

So today, after a long motorcycle ride down to South Miami (I live in the Fort Lauderdale area) and another battery of tests, the oncologist confirmed the diagnosis. I do indeed have a choroidal melanoma. It’s a small/medium-sized tumor and the treatment is plaque radiation, not eyeball removal. Of course, today was national “talk like a pirate” day so I asked about eye patch possibilities. The doctor nixed it. After treatment, I need to use my right eye so it heals up faster after all those roentgens have bombarded it.

On October 8, I check myself into a Miami hospital for a four night stay and some serious medical treatment on my hapless eyeball. With so much radiation going on, the treatment is complex and expensive. I do have health insurance but there will be costs that I must cover personally. Welcome to American health care.

Plaque radiation has some curious elements to it. For one, a physicist will be part of the surgical team. That’s the person who calculates the level of radioactivity to be delivered to my tumor. The radioactive plaque will be custom made for me and must be delivered in a way so as not to contaminate the area. After the initial surgery, visitors must stay six feet away and wear a lead shield. I won’t be allowed to leave my room. I’ll be radioactive, baby!

Hopefully, I’ll be able to blog about all this and get some cool photos.

PS – Here’s a photo of me directly from my most recent surgery, the one where they removed my right eyeball (December, 2014)

Uncle Larry

215 thoughts on “My Cancer

  1. Pingback: The Eyes Have It | The Private Man

  2. I hope you develop some cool super powers. Of course, you will only use them for good, or at least some definition of good…

    Take care.

  3. This is troubling:

    “If OM spreads beyond the eye, it is metastatic and approximately 50% of OM patients go on to develop metastatic disease. 80-90% of the time, the liver is the first site of this metastatic disease given the hematologic nature of OM. In other words, OM spreads via the blood and not via the lymphatic system such as with cutaneous melanoma, and the liver is thus affected in this propagation.”

    From here:

  4. Well, a blogger with OM steps up with some info:

  5. Damn, sorry to hear about this. I work at a med center and can access publications. Send me an e-mail if I can help.

    I know this may sound off the wall, but consider reducing protein in your diet and not eating too much overall. Protein increases levels of IGF-1 in the blood which drives cancer to divide faster. Maybe google IGF-1 and cancer.

    If I had cancer I would go on a high carb, low protein diet with about 1500 cals a day. But then again Im that vegan nutter, so keep that in mind.

  6. One of the procedures that will be done before the procedure (right before the procedure while I’m on the surgical table and all “relaxed” with drugs) is a DNA test of the tumor. The results of that test will indicate the probability of if metastasizing. There’s going to be some anxiety until I get those tests results. Regardless of the results, there will always be some chance of it metastasizing, usually to the liver.

    • always good to get as much info as you can…one way to look at this is to know that treatment options are much better now than say 20 yrs ago. Also, you could be living in Syria.

  7. As I haven’t been in the hospital since I was 13 years old, I am woefully ignorant about the choreography of medical specialists necessary before my cancer treatment can even begin. Before I check into the hospital next Tuesday, I must be medically cleared. Thinking on this, it’s completely logical. I need to be of sufficient overall health lest something woeful happen to me during treatment. So, with about week before my radiation treatment (just one treatment, by the way), it’s time to do the specialist mambo.

    One thing really complicated the time of all this. My primary care physician claims they didn’t receive the pre-surgery clearance request. Phone calls were made, faxes sent around, and appointments set up – blood work, chest x-ray, and physical exam. But wait, I must be seen by a pulmonologist. No, that’s not a guy who designs passenger train cars (old pun, suck it up). This is the lung specialist. I guess my retinal oncologist wants to make sure I don’t already have lung cancer. That actually makes sense.

    With time running out, I have to get an appointment in the next few days. Yeah, this is going to be fun. If I can’t find a lung specialist in time, there are two contingencies – 1. Postpone the radiation treatment. 2. Ask my oncologist if he’s willing to forgo the pulmonary element of my pre-surgery release.

    The next specialist I need to see is the radiation oncologist. That’s next Monday way down in Miami. I think my insurance company is going to hire an assassin to take me out because I’m going to be quite the fiduciary liability in the coming months and years. Yeah, quite the adventure, this.

  8. More than one reader has suggested that I start cooking meth. Yes, I have a passing resemblance to Walter White from “Breaking Bad” and yes, I have cancer. However, I lack the chemistry skills to undertake cooking meth. So, I’ll look into a career of smuggling narcotics, instead. After all, that’s what South Florida is known for.

  9. Consider going to a zero sugars diet, too. Poke around the Interwebs for more. Had a friend with lung cancer, was given 5% odds at the time, doing well these days, 10 years later. He immediately went to zero sugar when he got the diagnosis, swears by it.

  10. Really?! no, REALLY?!

    I failed the pre-surgery clearance medical exam. Here’s a new medical term for my expanding medical vocabulary: sinus tachycardia. The stand-in doctor for my primary care physician looked at my EKG today and gave me an epic thumbs down because of my heart. Doctor drama immediately commenced. The oncologist called the stand-in primary care physician and words were exchanged. The oncologist lost.

    So the downstream impact gets ugly. Appointments get cancelled at one specialist and appointments get made at another. That custom-made radioactive plaque for my eyeball? Yup, it gets shit-canned. The insurance company is going to go ballistic because that plaque probably costs thousands upon thousands of shekels to produce and it has a very short shelf life. Now, another plaque must be made. The hospital is going to be annoyed, too. Shit, everyone is going to be annoyed. I’m annoyed too because I was emotionally prepared for this procedure to happen next week.

    Jeebus, this cancer shit is complicated.

    • Hamster Tamer on said:

      Into the maw of Duh BiMIC (BioMedical-Industrial-Complex) swirls TPM… in the end, his eye (and liver) will probably be fine, but his psyche will have major road-rash. Personally I’d be fit for a straight jacket, and gnawing on wooden furniture.

      To his credit, TPM has resisted my entreaties to self-medicate with excessive doses of single-malt from the Land of Kilts.

  11. Tests, tests, and more tests… next week.

    Oh, and I’m to start another medication. My readers will love this one. This medication is called a “beta blocker”. This is very apropos and even ironic for someone who writes a Red Pill blog. Sadly, the medication is not actually to block beta behavior tendencies.

    The other details are not particularly riveting so I won’t provide them.

    The cardiologist is a latin guy with the “shut up patient, I’m the doctor” attitude. I, of course, pushed right back and by the end of the consultation he was far more respectful and we got along just fine.

    With a couple of exceptions all my medical specialists – there are two unrelated to my upcoming cancer treatment – are in Boca Raton, close to where I work. There are an astonishing number of specialists here in Boca Raton because of the older and wealthier population ’round these parts. That’s actually good for me because I can make good choices regarding doctors. As well, doctors are actually rated on particular websites..

    Next week is jam-packed with medical adventures. I’m sure my health insurance company is wailing and gnashing its fiduciary teeth.

  12. Good luck – just got caught up on the twisty road you’re on. Keep it up – sounds like you are weathering it better than most.

  13. Finally, I gots me some surgical clearance. The cardiologist gave me the letter and I made sure my oncologist and primary care physician received it. Do I know those doctors got that letter? I actually took it to my primary care physician personally (motorcycle courier style) and watched them fax it to my oncologist.

    There is still a fly in the ointment: my blood pressure. I had a terrible ride to the cardiologist on I-95. The South Florida drivers were particularly bad and that raised both my heart rate and BP to unhealthy levels. Of course, having a wee bit o’ malignant cancer on my retina isn’t helping with my emotional anxiety and subsequent high BP and high heart rate. More meds are now in order.

    All hail meds! All hail meds!

    • Make sure to avoid caffeine the day you are getting your BP checked. A heavy workout the day before should help as well. If you can do it before eating breakfast, all the better.

      Good luck!

  14. Holy hell, PM. I’m sorry I missed your original post. I don’t remember if you’re much of a religious man, but either way, I’ll keep you in my thoughts and prayers, sending good energy too you, all that jazz.

  15. Hang in there, man. Keep soaking in that Florida sun. We’re all with you on this.

  16. Are you still radioactive?

  17. And yet more meds… the BP remains stubbornly high and my cardiologist claims that surgery won’t be possible. No matter, I still have a letter of clearance from him. Tomorrow I’m off to the retinal oncologist for another pre-surgery follow up and I’ll talk about the BP issue with him. Every day this tumor squats in my eyeball is another opportunity for it metastasizing.

    Further cheery news: If the fucker spreads… well, no comment.

    • Hamster Tamer on said:

      Ingest Arginine AKG (**Alpha**-Keto-Glutarate), it will nicely dilate EVERY blood vessel in your wrecked and wretched bod, dropping your BP, and increasing your endurance. It does this by helping your body generate more of the necessary and already-present nitric oxide (NO), naturally. Check out Dr. Louis Ignarro, who won The Nobel Prize for his work on using arginine to boost NO. He gots a book an’ everythin’.

      Side effects include increased potency, and waking up with a “tent pole” most mornings.

      I did a 4 month “round” a few years ago. Noticed a BP diff in just 11 days. In six weeks I went from could-barely-do-one-pullup, hey-I’m-old-gimme-a-break, to cranking out 10 REAL pullups… 12 if I grunt and use bad language.

      Arginine+Ornithine supposedly does same thing. GNC stores and the like will hose you price-wise. Suggest product named ‘NitrO2’ from… only about $12/month, vs. $40+ via brick and mortar.

      • I used to take AAKG before working out, it seemed to help and my blood pressure the next morning was down in the normal range. I have no idea if it will help you, but it’s an inexpensive thing to try. The powder form is really bittler, so I switched to the tablets, they take a little bit longer to get into your system.

        Good luck! I’m still waiting to see what kind of superpowers you wind up with…

    • redpillwifey on said:

      Ugh. If it’s urgent, shouldn’t they put you in the hospital to get that under control ASAP?Β 

      Hope they figure it out soon. :-/Β 

  18. The Doctor Stuck A Needle Into My Eye

    Don’t worry, he was good about it. Actually, the nurse who prepped my unfortunate eyeball was even better about it. But still, an injection into an eyeball is not a natural event.

    Of course it freaked me out. My blood pressure spiked and my whole head turned a nice reddish color. It was so red that everyone who saw me remarked about my anxiety. I may have emotional resolve but someone was about to STICK A NEEDLE INTO MY EYEBALL! My blood pressure did go up but not like it did when I saw the cardiologist last week. Meds can work.

    This all started with a follow up because of a surgical delay. The oncologist wanted to see me again because of the six week gap from the previous time I went through the barrage of eye examinations. Things changed. Fred the tumor got squirrely. So here’s what’s going to happen instead of the planned radiation therapy:

    PPV (
    Membrane Peel (
    Endolaser (description below)
    Phacoemulsifaction with intraocular lens implant – Phaco with IOL implant
    Intravitreal triescence (huh?)
    Fine needle biopsy (more below)

    This looks like a whole bunch of serious eye surgery procedures. My right eye will be going through a lot. In researching these procedures, I realized that they are well established in the wacky world of eye surgery.

    The real deal for me will be the results of the biopsy. First of all, doing a biopsy to determine ocular melanoma treatment is unusual. There are risks associated with poking such a melanoma with a needle when not immediately followed serious treatment such as radiation or removing the eyeball.

    Why is a biopsy not recommended in this circumstance?

    “Biopsies are performed with some types of eye cancers, for example eyelid tumors, but are not recommended for choroidal melanomas. Fine-needle biopsy of a suspected melanoma is rarely done because the risks far outweigh the benefits. Tumor seeding (spread of the cancer cells) has been reported with fine-needle biopsy.” ( – my doctor wrote that)

    I mentioned this to one of the doctors and said that’s why the laser is involved, to limit the chance of tumor seeding. I’ll trust him on that. The purpose of the biopsy is to determine the DNA of the tumor. The oncologist told me of three categories that the DNA will full under:

    1A – No radiation required, just watch and see if the tumor grows or changes. “Pray for that one” he told several times. No shit, Doc.
    1B – Radiation required. That’s what I am expecting.
    2 – Um, no comment

    It’s an even chance across all three. Wish me luck.

    Here’s some more info:

  19. That’s really scary. I was ok with LASIK, but the whole needle in the eyeball is really scary.
    I’m glad the meds have been working. Take care!

  20. Hamster Tamer on said:

    *NOT* implying anything about your outcome(s), but… it *might* be time to trade in the motorsickle on one of these: … just sayin’…

  21. The procedure was changed (see my comment above) and now THAT procedure has been cancelled. Why? My recent motorcycle accident. My oncologist still wants to see me, however, on Monday to discuss “other options”. This is going to be interesting.

  22. The oncologist checked out my eye on Monday. My recent injuries didn’t impact much my eyeball as was his concern and hence his request for my visit to his offices.

    He did confirm that my tumor (“Fred”) has shown increased vascular activity since my first visit back in the middle of September. I assume that this is not good. One of my doctor’s colleagues did say that my prognosis has worsened. They didn’t give me any percentages regarding my future. That’s what the biopsy is for.

    Oh, and I got another injection in my eye. Bonus.

  23. I’m having the biopsy to determine the likelihood of the tumor spreading. This is a GEP test. The results will determine my risk group.

    1a – 10% chance of spreading
    1b – 21-30% chance of spreading
    2 – 90% of spreading.

    Half of patients end up in the class 2 group, the other half in 1a or 1b.

    So there it is.

  24. WOW, I dont even know where to start, or finish ( a problem my kids constantly remind me of , the finish part anyway). I will say this through out this blog you have written of your experience with humor and raw truth. I loved that. You know the childrens vow)” cross my heart, hope to die stick a needle in my eye ” its not just a childrens vow for you it could be your daily mantra ! Ouch. Chin up lad.

  25. Seeking Hamster on said:

    Yo man, just passing by – was looking for a definition of hamster πŸ™‚
    Check this forum out –>

    Perhaps there is something there for you. Don’t let them docs hack you to pieces while impoverishing you. Best wishes and recover soon, mkay?

  26. Andrew, you are soooooo brave and have to put up with such an ugly dawg too who now I hear is a scrapper…hope she came out best…see you at end Jan & will take you both out to our fave Greek bar when i come over…luv to Lucy…who is the cutest dawg..luv Gerry

  27. Times are getting tough. The rib pain is awful. I fell last night and probably re-fractured a couple of them. Why did I fall? I have no fucking idea.

  28. I had a recent visit with my primary physician for some final bloodwork before my eye surgery next week. She and I had an interesting conversation about my eye ball cancer and the change up in procedures (scroll up a bit to see the details on that). I told her what I could and discovered that she had been doing a bit of research into ocular melanoma. My primary care physician concluded that I need to see a regular oncologist.

  29. Pingback: 5 Reasons To Date A Man With Cancer

  30. Louise on said:

    Let’s hope your Christmas present will be a 1a! Or better yet, that the tumor is gone πŸ™‚

  31. As a 2-1/2 year malignant melanoma survivor (18 months since the dreaded Stage 4 diagnosis), I’d strongly suggest making sure you keep the following information in your pocket should, God forbid, your melanoma spread: NIH has a series of trials for tumor-infiltrating lymphocyte (TIL) treatment which has shown promise for some people afflicted with this cancer. Contact me if you’d like more info. I wish you the best in your treatment and accident recovery.

  32. Have you looked into whether THC/hemp oil can help with this kind of cancer?

  33. Why I Don’t Talk Much In Person About All This

    I have a wonderful network of friends and family. Most want to know about my medical progress or lack thereof. I simply refer them to this blog page and tell them to scroll down to read the comments (like this one) if they want an update.

    This serves three purposes:

    Firstly, it saves time. What I’m going through is complex and changing. If I were to update all my friends and family via the phone, I’d spend all my time on the phone. Honestly, there are more important things to do. Hell, I gotta walk the dog at least once a day. And yes, I still have a full time job on top of all this medical stuff.

    Secondly, It encourages my friends and family to read my blog. I actually had to get angry with my own brother because he wasn’t reading my blog, this page, and the many updates herein. I’m a writer so my words are important to me. If my friends and family don’t read what I write, I get pissed off. Yo bro, that means you, too.

    Thirdly, I get to avoid the almost inevitable verbal conversations about my health. Growing up, I remember middle age (and older)people going on and on and on (AND ON!) about their medical issues. That subject is selfish and boring. I will resist doing that. I won’t even put my medical stuff on the main page of my blog. If y’all are interested, you’re reading the right page. With a blog page, I can describe/vent/commiserate without actually having verbal conversations.

    I’m not trying to be rude about all this, but my cancer doesn’t own me (yet). The best way to show that is through these words so I can deal with stuff out there in real life.

  34. First Surgery Done – Dammit, no photos

    Arriving before dawn, I was admitted to Larkin Community Hospital in south Miami for an outpatient surgical procedure on my right eye. My friend, Tommy, was gracious enough to give me a ride there and back. Thanks dude, I owe you more gas money.

    It was an interesting experience. From getting the IV stuck in my hand to actually being semi-conscience while two doctors explored the deepest, darkest depths of my right eye ball. I almost managed to smuggle in my cell phone to take pictures of things but a nurse intercept the gurney I was riding. She snagged my glasses and my cell phone. Fie, a pox on you, fair nurse!

    During the prep phase of the surgery, every single nurse (most of them men, by the way) and the doctors verified that it was my right eye to receive the indelicacies of modern, surgical medicine.

    The primary doctor – my retina oncologist – had at least a half dozen patients lined up to receive eye surgery. I was number five. Everything went reasonably well. However, I don’t think the two doctors violating my eye ball during surgery were aware that I was listening to their conversation at the end of the surgery.

    “OK, let’s do the biopsy.”

    “Yeah, I can see the tumor.

    “That’s a big tumor.”

    The whole experience only took about six hours.

    Here’s the problem – My first examination at the oncologist back in September showed a small to medium tumor. Now, it’s a big tumor. I am not liking this. Actually, I am rather despising this. The biopsy results are due right around Christmas, oh joy. Those results will determine my upcoming cancer treatments and, quite possibly, my life expectancy.

    As things stand now, I have an impressive eye patch and can’t see a thing from my right eye. This is proving to be a visual challenge. Writing this comment is a weird experience because I’m using only one eye. There is some pain in my right eye but it’s not so bad.

    I have a follow up appointment within 12 hours of posting this. Expect an update.

    • Hamster Tamer on said:

      … the prep phase of the surgery, every single nurse (most of them men, by the way)…
      Ah’m no medikal eks-pert, but if’n a male nurse says he needz ta shave yer prah-vits for an EYE operation, 😯 … well mister, yew may have ta go against custom an’ call in the gubbermint authori-tahs, mebbe even the possum sheriff… ah reckon.

      Fie, a pox on you, fair nurse!

      Is she a goer?… does she go, eh? Does she, go? Oh, bet she does, bet… she… DOES!… fair ‘nough. Nudge-nudge, wink-wink… sporty girl is she?… loves “sports” I bet…

      Does she like… umm… PHOOO-tog-raphy? Snap-snap, racy pictures, eh? Snap-snap, show some leg, eh? Say n’ more, SAY… NO … MORE! :mrgreen:

      • Hamster Tamer on said:

        *Apologies to Larry The Cable Guy, and Monty Python… πŸ˜›

        Now let’s continue our journey to… Castle Anthrax! πŸ˜† “No, no, it’s too perilous!…”

  35. Thanks for the update Drew…thinking of you and that sexy hair net! You owned that hat!

  36. Thoughts and prayers with you my brother. Let me know of any way I can help.

  37. The bandages have been removed and I’ve bought a new eye patch. My right eye stings quite a bit and is making some serious tears. The doctor says that my vision will slowly improve… just in time for my biopsy and the serious treatment that will likely happen.

  38. Hang in there and be strong, brotha.

  39. Fuck,..

    Well at least you’ll be ready for the Gasparilla Pirate Festival in Tampa this year.

  40. Best wishes to you as you fight this. And btw, love your attitude about it.

  41. wingman on said:

    PM – Dec 11th is a while ago – please update. And Happy New Year!! Your network is thinking about you, and channeling all the positive ion beams we can.

  42. Finally, some good news. The biopsy results are in and Fred the tumor has only a 10% chance of spreading. That’s the 1A group from the GEP. This means that I won’t need radiation therapy. Hopefully, the laser treatment has worked effectively. I’ll know more next month.

    Regardless, Fred will always be in my eye, a small sword of Damocles. Despite the laser treatment, there is always the chance of him spreading.

    Bottom line, I’ll live so I’m returning to some previous plans before I got so sidetracked last year.

    • The Lucky Lothario on said:

      Glad to hear it, Drew. Looks like 2014 is already proving better than last year’s dark comedy. All the best.

  43. Pingback: I’m Mulling Over A Crowdfunding Idea… | The Private Man

  44. Louise on said:

    Great news! Have fun planning all the exciting adventures, no longer on ‘hold’, and enjoy 2014 to the fullest!

  45. Congrats! That’s great news.

    Now, become a vegan like me. And stop smoking, damn it!

  46. Great news about Fred–damn him anyway. Welcome back to the land of “planning for the future”…

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  51. I was talking to a colleague about my cancer treatment and my prognosis. Based on my most recent communication with my doctor, I won’t be dropping dead any time soon. Long term, all bets are off. I have a strong sense that I won’t be collecting any social security retirement payments. The limited research on ocular melanoma backs that up.

    Long term is not what’s bothering me about this cancer. It’s my vision, or lack thereof. It’s been a few months since my treatment when my hapless eyeball was set upon by a pack of ophthalmological savages. I’ve been waiting for my vision in my right eye to stabilize. Unhappily, it’s not. I have good eye days and bad eye days. The glasses do help with my short vision so I can continue to work, write, and tweet.

    The differing eyesight ‘twixt my eyes is causing all sorts of weird things. My depth perception is horrible. Even my height perception is affected so I find myself ducking slightly when I go through ordinary but unknown doorways. The worst vision effect is medium distance, roughly 20 feet to 100 feet away. I really can’t see anything except recognizable shapes and colors.

    This means I can still avoid getting hit by a bus. This also means I can’t recognize people until they are less than about 10 feet away. This has caused me some embarrassment in the village when people yell out my name (or my dog’s name). I can only wave cordially at the unrecognizable human form. Fortunately, the word is getting out about my sub-prime vision so neighbors and local friends are beginning to say “Hey Andrew, it’s Lori”.

    There are also some other serious impacts on my life because of my eyesight. For example, I can’t ride my motorcycle. It sits idle in front of my apartment building. This means I get to work via public transportation. It’s only one bus and it picks me very to close where I live and drops me off very close to where I work. I can get everything I need in the village on foot. There’s even a hardware store within very quick walking distance. Despite the eyesight issue, I still get around.

    This has all been one hell of an adventure.

    • Hang in!

    • I did a lot of public transportation in Atlanta. Its a great time to read. I suggest goint to, placing some of the words of your eye issue in the search engine, and read some of the scientific literature about it. Many of the articles are now free to the public. Knowledge is power.

    • Hamster Tamer on said:

      He didn’t mention that his bus is “The Bikini Express”, which takes the beachfront route most of the way to his destination. He’s gamin’ instead o’ drivin’.

      He also didn’t mention how he’s schmoozing free bus passes from female drivers. Gotta hand it to TPM, he’s making lemonade left and right. πŸ˜‰

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  54. Thank you for sharing experience TPM!

  55. WOW! And here I’am thinking I was at the lowest point of my life! Private Man I do hope that you are doing better and are up on your feet soon! Be strong! Don’t let it mess with you!


  56. It’s been awhile since I’ve posted a cancer update. That’s because, until now, there’s been nothing to update. This is not a grim update because the actual cancer has not spread. This update is the result of something that was not unexpected, blindness in one eye.

    Almost a year after my last, and most invasive ocular melanoma treatment, the vision in my right eye is completely gone. That eyeball’s eyesight has left the building. Obviously, I can still write

    The eye was operating at about 30% efficiency until just last night. When I awoke this morning, it was quite obvious regarding the state of my vision in my right eye. There’s a large dark spot covering up most and the rest is reduced to simply seeing light with absolutely no resolution to make out objects.

    The eye looks totally normal just as it always has. I won’t get strange looks but I suspect I’ll be bumping into things until my left eye and my brain adapts to this new eyesight situation. I knew that the cancer would impact my lifestyle so I’m not all freaked out. In a sense, I traded my life for the vision in one eye. It was a fair trade.

    It’s all rather disconcerting. Thankfully, a new and delightful woman in my life has been patient and understanding. She doesn’t even mind when I wear my eyepatch, something that I will be doing more. And just when is national Talk Like a Pirate Day? Did I miss it? Argggggg!

    • So now when you’re catching up on re-runs of Sex and the City on your new TV/cable system, you can only watch either “Sex” or “the City”? Actually, I’d choose the city.

      I know it’s not unexpected, but still kinda sucks. Still, a delightful woman and an eyepatch can go a long way to help deal with the situation.

      International Talk Like A Pirate Day was September 19th. But I suggest claiming every day as your own persaon TLAP Day…

      • It’s kind of ironic that I only recently bought a TV and cable service. Eh, life happens.

        I’ll be watching “the City” as per your recommendation.

    • redpillwifey on said:

      Hey PM,
      I’ve been absent in the blogosphere lately, but I still get updates from you via email. Just wanted to drop a line and say that I’m so happy that it hasn’t spread. Still sending you prayers and good vibes. πŸ™‚


  57. If you’re going to have additional eye problems, go big!


    Neovascular glaucoma is an uncommon form of closed-angle glaucoma which can lead to blindness if eye pressure is not lowered. Patients with impaired blood flow to the eye are at particular risk for developing it. Early detection and treatment of the neovascularization may prevent additional loss of vision.”


  58. It’s called enucleation.

    That’s just a fancy way of saying “eyeball removal”.

    My recent cancer setback – read a couple of comments back – has resulted in a scheduled surgery for Wednesday, December 17. That’s next week and just about one year after my first surgery to treat my malignant tumor.

    When I was first diagnosed with ocular melanoma last year, I read about eyeball removal and all that goes along with it. While it’s an outpatient procedure, it’s also a fairly big deal surgically. But my oncologist quickly assured me that enucleation was unneccesary and that I would keep the eye.

    Things changed as of last Wednesday when I awoke to complete blindness and severe pain in my cancerous light-catcher. The regime of four seperate eyedrops help to relieve the pain. But the damage was done and yesterdays’s trip to the oncologists resulted in upcoming surgery schedule.

    The ultra-sound showed something vexing. My cancer has grown, doubling in size. The top of the page here shows a photo of my tumor, Fred, as it was last year. This extra growth caused all the pain and damage to my eye. Note my choice in words. I said “grown” and not “spread”. This is an extremely important distinction. If my cancer had spread (almost always to the liver in the case of ocular melanoma), I would be writing about the brief few months in which I would have to live.

    However, this is not the case as I write this. The pain is pretty intense but everything is limited to my right eye. The cancer has grown in size locally, but has not yet shown any signs of spreading to other parts of my body. That’s a good thing. The bad thing is that the cancer may now be embedded into the tissue behind the eyeball. This means further tests will be done and radiation of further surgery may be necessary. I will know more right around the first of the year. Deja vu from last year.

    The intentional removal of an eye is not a routine medical treatment. With the eyeball gone, the eyeball prothesis becomes part of my everyday life. Here’s some background:

    I’m not quite sure how I’m going to deal with this emotionally. I have a support network, folks to call, and a lovely woman who holds me close at night. These are uncharted waters for me. Self-pity is not my style so I’m not going there. But as for the rest and what happens going forward? I have no answers and and can’t yet give my readers any insight (heh) regarding my feelings.

    Stay tuned.

    • Hamster Tamer on said:

      I’m freaked… makes my vitreal detachment so minor… still, shouldn’t have cancelled my annual eye checkup.

    • I’ve been thinking, it’s a bad habit. Lately I have been playing with microcontrollers and tri-color LEDs. There’s enough room in a prothesis for a microcontroller, rechargable battery, LED and bluetooth module. Think of how much fun you could have in bars with a glowing eye, one that can even send Morse code…

      Now I wonder if I could 3d print the prosthesis…

    • PM, so sorry to hear about this, but good news that it hasn’t spread (as well as good news on the romance front). But like Matt noted, it gives you an opportunity to be creative with the prosthesis (and/or eye patches). It really sucks, but hopefully you will be both tumor and cancer free when this is all done.

      Keep the faith, brother!

  59. Good luck. Sounds like a pain in the ass, if you’ll excuse the expression. Good to hear that your love life remains intact.

  60. “Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it.”

    Yorick, my ex-eyeball is gone. He was successfully ripped from my eyesocket to be uncermoniously sent off to the harsh world of a pathology laboratory where he will be torn asunder to determine if Fred, the tumor, might cause my premature demise through the unmerciful process of metastisis. When the results are delivered three weeks hence, I will inform my readers thusly. My intuition is telling me that I will live a relatively long and annoying life.

    In place of Yorick, there are now two pieces of medical grade plastic. One, a unique prothesis with a special surface that will allow my eyesocket muscles to grasp it so that it will turn naturally. Check out this website for more info:

    The other bit of plastic is like a giant, brown contact lens that keeps my eyesocket open so that it does not close up like a fierce and stubborn clam. That surface prostetic is of the one-size-fits-all category and it’s rather uncomfortable right now. My doctor warned me that it might pop out of my eye at inconvenient moments. I can’t wait for that hilarity to ensue. Good times ahead!

    Because of the initial, post-surgery swelling, my eyelids are pretty well sealed up so the surface prosthetic is not visible. However, my girlfriend had a look and told me it was a brownish color. As the healing continues, the lids will spread and I’ll start looking like a proper, one-eyed villain. That is until the surface prosthetic pops out at a bad time. Oops.

    There’s some initial nastiness to deal with. The socket is, and will be, oozing some blood and other unpleasant gooey stuff. Once the healing is more advanced, I will be referred to an oculist for the fitting of a properly sized surface prosthetic. Once fitted, it will be painted to match my left eye so that it will not only move naturally, it will won’t look like a prostetic. Of course, I could have a couple of spares with something really cool painted on them. I’m open to ideas.

    Finally, here’s a sweet irony. As I write this update, I’m listening to Luther Vandross sing “I think I’m going out of my head.” Get it?! Hehehehe.

  61. My doctor said the temporary, surface eye prosthetic could very well pop out at inopportune times. It did just that yesterday when the lower part of it pretty much spilled out of my eyesocket. Fortunately, my spiffy eye patch kept my embarrassment to a minimum because no one could see the nastiness of a displaced eye prosthetic.

    So what to do about such a thing? My doctor told me to just pop it back in. It’s just like a huge contact lens he told me. Yeah, no sweat… like this has happened to me before. I’ve never even worn regular contact lenses.

    With my prosthetic kind of hanging out of my eyesocket, things got even weirder – or incredibly good. My girlfriend was with me at the time of this awkward event. I told her of my loose prosthetic before I took off my eyepatch. Without hesitation or squeemishness, she deftly re-inserted the plastic piece back into my hapless head, restoring me to relative normalcy.

    Quite a woman.

    • I wore contacts for year, you’ll get used to it pretty quickly. And the GF sounds like a real keeper. Personally, I’d have some social fun with the popping-out-prosthetic…

  62. I’m waiting for the results of two different types of biopsies. Things are a bit anxious now because those results will fundamentally determine my lifespan. While the cancer has grown, I don’t know if it’s actually spread. Growth is manageable. Spread is not. Knowing my oncologist (dammit, I loathe using that term when describing my doctor), I will get a call next week where I will either be asked to come into the office to discuss the results or the results will be delivered with the phone call. If I’m requested to come to the office, it’s bad news.

  63. This cancer is crazy expensive. Out of pocket medical expenses are killing me. And since I’m between jobs, my readers can do the math. I’ll get work again soon but I certainly need to fill in some financial gaps until then. Things are dire. Here’s the donate link:

    Despite all this cancer shit and the financial repercussions, I remain positive and upbeat. Thanks, readers.

  64. Good news and bad news…

    My biopsy results from my recent surgery have come in. The good news is that the tumor did not grow beyond the eye socket. The bad news is that the DNA of the tumor is now a category 1B. This is an increase of spreadability from a 1A. In percentage terms, the tumor went from a less than 10% chance of spreading to a 21%-30% chance of spreading, even with the eyeball removed. In eff ect, Fred the tumor ain’t dead, he’s just lurking somewhere else in my body and may surface one day and, well, render me less than mortal.

    But I’m glad the DNA of the tumor didn’t change to a category 2 (Ocular melanoma has a different stage categories than regular cancers). That would mean a 90% chance of it spreading. So, I’m celebrating to a point.

    My medical shit won’t end anytime soon. This cancer is so rare I should have bought a lottery ticket when I was first diagnosed back in 2013.

    And I received a very nice email from a young woman in the UK who was also diagnosed with the same type of cancer. Hey L, you’re not alone and thanks for reading my blog!

  65. Horrible Larry. Really sorry to hear all of this.
    –browneye from ADV

  66. Pingback: Things I Hate | The Private Man

  67. Eva-Lynne on said:

    I hadn’t any idea what you looked like until just now, finding this page (I lurk happily within the main body of your writing.) and I just had to comment that you are incredibly cute. Juvenile, I know. What can I say? I’m a woman. πŸ˜‰
    Many genuinely positive and healing thoughts sent your way, cute man.

    • And only with the one eye… go figure.

      • Especially with one eye. Respective to courage and character, two eyes are overrated. It doesn’t hurt that the one you have is twice as beautiful than most ordinary pairs, cutie pants.

        Your passion is contagious. I’ve been inspired to act as a result of reflecting on your words.

        Don’t ever doubt that you’re making a difference, influencing others to think & consider.

  68. Pingback: Thoughts About Re-Entry Dating (Repost) | Emotional Sobriety: Friends & Lovers

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  71. I’m now having symptoms that might indicate the cancer has spread to my liver, I hope to have an ultrasound scan of that organ quite soon (today is the plan!).

    My readers know what this means.

    Further details as events warrant.

  72. Matt on said:

    Please let me know the details, I’ll plan a trip out that way sooner rather than later

  73. Louise Rose on said:

    Sending prayers for NED!!! You are amazingly strong and you have a wonderful sense of humor. Hold onto the positive thoughts and keep us updated.

    • Thankyou so much! Your hand-written and wonderful letter is still on my fridge and it gives me a warm feeling every time I reach for a something cold. Wednesday is going to be an interesting day. My primary care physician is a marvelous woman and I want her to deliver the news, whatever it might be.

    • Louise Rose on said:

      Woooo Hoooo !!!!! Sorry about the F#€*ing gallstones but Wooooo Hoooo NO METS!!!!! I am toasting your NED liver with a fine glass of bubbly ….. I am so happy for you…. Go out and celebrate.

  74. The tests results are in… the cancer has NOT spread to my liver. Why all the symptoms?

    Fucking gall stones.


  75. Pingback: Patreon For Me – Yeah, I Went There | The Private Man

  76. Well shit, I’m probably going to join a cancer support organization… details here:

    This might be something to blog about.

    • It’s official, I’m joining on Thursday. I wonder how they will deal with my blog. Lulz.

      • Hamster Tamer on said:

        TRY to resist Attention-Whoring, i.e. for having da rarest cancer (probably) of da group… however, pitching woo at survivor-babes tot’ly allowed! ;’)

      • I joined Gilda’s Club today. Quite the the organization. And no, T, I won’t be attention whoring! #facepalm.

        As a matter of fact, there is another recent member of this organization who has the exact same type of cancer and the organizers have given my information to this person so we can connect. So there!

      • Hamster Tamer on said:

        #nofacepalm… just messin’ wit ya! Just as it’s awkward to work ‘insouciant’ into casual convo, it’s hard to dredge up an excuse to apply the ‘AW’ label to a dude… but I keep trying.

  77. Bill on said:

    And that other person (drumroll) is me. Talk with you soon

  78. Good for you joining a support group. I’m enjoying your blog. Thanks for sharing.

  79. It’s hard to know what to say. I feel like anything I could say would fall short. I think it’s easier for women. We get to be scared and vulnerable. You guys have it worse in times of crisis. I salute your strength, and wish you the peace you deserve. Regards, Pam

  80. I’m due for another ultrasound early next month and it’s good timing.

    But at least my current project is showing serious promise and I’m moving forward without letting my cancer bring me down emotionally.

    I really like helping guys. It’s interesting to note that most of the interest has been from younger guys. As I don’t have kids, I’m building a legacy in effect. So if any of you guys (and women) need some honest, straightforward, actionable advice, hit me up. If you know someone, direct them to that link above.

    Money is an issue because I’m between technical writing contracts and my usual recruiters are not coming through just yet. I don’t go into details about this subject and my family has been incredibly helpful. Regardless, EVERY donation (no matter how modest) is extremely helpful. I’ve taken to selling a few things to make ends meet. I’ll get some flack from folks who think I should have been prepared for this. But seriously, an incredibly rare and very serious cancer? Yeah… right… I’m also doing Patreon.

  81. Ah, just looked at this thread. Here’s hoping the pain was from a bad sandwich. Hang in!

  82. I think i’m your mirror twin – my chorodial melono a is is my left eye. The Optomitrist found the neuvus, then the Opthamologist watched it for over 1 yr. I became too complacent and went to yearly check-up 8 months late and there it was in all it’s orange glowing glory. I went straight to the radiation format and will go back for my 6 month check-up in April to see if tbe cancer is dying off.
    In the meantime i hooked up with an Oncologist and am getting quartely
    Cat scans.
    I chose not to get the biopsy before the radiation for one, the possibility of spreading it and two, i didn’t want to feel sorry for myself or feel that i had a free bitch card.
    I really enjoy your writing, dry wit and giving my feelings and mental acrobatics a voice. I too go to South Fl For treatment.
    I hope you are well and am looking forwars to readin g more of your

  83. Hamster Tamer on said:

    WHERE is TPM of late? I know where his “ugly” dog is, but where is he…? ❓

  84. Matt on said:

    He never writes, he never calls….

    No respect for his elders.

    • Hamster Tamer on said:

      Well, he did tweet on his twitter today… but still, kinda rude to leave his “flagship” blog without even an “out of the office/on sabbatical” notice, eh wot?

      • Twitter? Is that still a thing? I thought it had gone the way of MySpace. If not, it really needs to.

  85. Charnell on said:

    I have choroidal melanoma right eye

  86. I was diagnosed with chordial melanoma of the right eye in September of 2004. Although the tumor was large, it was encapsulated. I was treated and followed by Dr. Carol Shields at Wills Eye in Philadelphia. Three days ago, I celebrated the12th anniversary of the enucleation. Now, I serve as a volunteer advocate for those who are newly diagnosed who wish to speak with someone with experience.

    • Hamster Tamer on said:

      Charlie, yours is a *great* outcome (enucleation aside), statistically speaking. I’m sure your advocate work is appreciated by many who are hit with this frightening diagnosis.

      I’ll try to get TPM to return to this, his “flagship” blog… I thought the Twitter infatuation would’ve run its course by now… guess not.

  87. Yeah, he never writes, he never calls. See if I send him a birthday cake next year!

  88. My friend had eye cancer treated at Cleveland Clinic 2 years ago she has done very well Now only has 6 mo checkups

  89. The last three weeks have been interesting medically for me. After some tests – ultrasound, MRI, lots of blood tests, my oncologist informed me this morning (January 26, 2017) that my melanoma (cancer) has metastasized to my liver. We did discuss treatment options and there are few. We also discussed my prognosis going forward. The news is not good. My lifespan is now measured in weeks. I will be seeing my oncologist weekly now for blood tests to determine the pace of my liver’s deterioration.

    That being said, it might be a couple of weeks or many weeks for this to happen. No matter, I’m prepared for the ultimate outcome. That’s the part when my liver completely fails and I shuffle of this mortal coil. That means I die.

    I am taking care of all the necessary logistics required when stuff like this happens. The people around me are being supportive and caring. I am actually trying to plan a “Going Away” party for sometime in early March down here in Boynton Beach, FL. Updates will be posted here and on Twitter.

    I have some requests from my readers. Please don’t tell me to “fight it, Andrew!” I know more about this type of cancer than most and I know the ROI on fighting something like this. It ain’t worth it. My current quality of life is far more important than my future, degraded, quantity of life… my body, my choice. I’m grateful for such exhortations but I am profoundly realistic.

    Also, I don’t want to hear about some great aunt who fought off cancer by bee-sting therapy or smoking copious amounts of strong marijuana. I know you mean well. I know you want the best for me. But I won’t be taking in alternative therapies that don’t work on statistically large enough numbers.

    What you can do for me is to keep me in your minds or to send some breathtakingly bad jokes ( For the men out there, know that self-improvement and positive masculinity is a key in life. There are so many great masculine bloggers out there, follow them, implement their advice. And tell them to get off my damned lawn!

    I will post updates (as comments on this page). If you want the whole cancer story, go here:

    • M calkins on said:

      Lo there do I see my father;

      Lo there do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers;

      Lo there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning.

      Lo, they do call me, they bid me take my place among them, in the halls of
      Valhalla, where the brave may live forever.

      Thought you might appreciate this.

    • captainstud on said:

      Watched the speech you gave at The Convention. Found it very educational and practical. I wish you make the best use and enjoy your remaining time on this planet.

  90. To quote John Blutarsky, my advice to you is to start drinking heavily.

  91. Hamster Tamer on said:

    Umm, smoke ’em if ya got ’em?…

    Lucy T. Dawg will soldier on, the brindle-striped terror of haughty kitties…

  92. Sorry to hear, Andrew. All of us over at ADV have been and will continue to be pulling for you. Let the Geezers know when the party is, some of us may be able to show up.

    • CamoGreg on said:

      Ditto to what Pilot said.
      A bunch of us had hoped to see you ride to one of the next Red Pill Rallies.
      Instead we could ride to you.
      Your bike may be gone, but you’ll always be an inmate.

      Respect, brother.

      • I’ve tentatively scheduled my “Going Away” party for March 4 (Saturday) here in Boynton Beach, Florida at a restaurant I know. It’ll be interesting party because I fully expect to be there and being a royal pain in the ass. Everyone is invited.

    • Damn, Brother. We miss you already and we’re going to miss you even more.

  93. timk519 on said:

    TPM – sorry to read about your diagnosis. I’ve appreciated the time you’ve spent on ADV and you’ll be in my prayers during the time you have left.

  94. I always looked forward to your writings Andrew. When you get to heaven throw us some white pills from the sky. The wisdom you share with us is a testament to all the living you’ve done. Man, will you be missed.

  95. As a fellow victim of the same eye cancer, I respect your choice at this fork in the road. I want to thank you for writing about your experience and tell you that your writings have saved my sanity and soothed my own sorrows of this inevitable fate awaiting me. Andrew, I wish and pray for you to have love, see beauty and be at peace every day. You are a great man!

  96. Dranrab Luap on said:

    Sending you love Andrew.

  97. Hey make it at Mama Mia’s Trattoria…i hooked up with a waitress there when I was visiting family in WPB back in 2013…she doesn’t want to see me again but you can talk her into it!!

    Booking my flight from LA into PBI….hang in there. See you soon,

  98. Pingback: My Going Away Party | The Private Man

  99. LostSailor on said:

    So sorry to hear, Andrew, but I certainly respect your choice. I feel honored to have known you and know that your writing has certainly helped many men to find the path. I hope that your remaining days are ones of love and peace. Know you have my deepest respect, brother…

  100. thedeti on said:

    Well. Sonofabitch, fellow traveler.

    I blasted on to this blog waaaay back in the early spring of 2011. I wrote a lot. You wrote more, and better. I have learned much from you. Thanks for running this place. Can’t thank you enough. I’ll miss you.


    Best regards,


  101. Long time lurker here. You were one of the first on my newsreader and I’ll be damned if I’m ever going to take you off. Thank you. For everything. If not tomorrow, in the very near future I will hop on the Honda RS and ride in your honor for a very long while.

  102. Hamster Tamer on said:

    I know it’s both more hoity and more toity than ‘The Mist’ but… is The Living Room Pub canine-friendly?…

  103. Dear Friend,

    I want to thank you for all the great post and tweets you gave us for years. Could you write some ultimate posts?such as…..
    your Manifesto for living,
    your manifesto for dating,
    your 11 commandments of poon,
    what would have been the best advice to yourself when you were 25 years-old?
    could you please make a list of your #10 favorite posts?
    What is your ultimate guide for a good life?
    what are your favorite books, the top 10 every manosphere guy should read?
    any regrets….?
    things you could have done and you did not and regret by now?
    things you are very proud of
    I wish you a safe trip.
    Remember that this blog is eternal this your gift to the future generations…..
    LOVE and PEACE.
    You have a lot of work to do before you leave us!!!!!!

    • One of my blog readers is assembling a collection of my best posts to produce as some sort of book or downloadable reference. As well, my blog and Twitter account are being passed along to a trusted friend who will keep both up and running. So, in effect, I won’t be totally gone. Just dead.

  104. I am very sorry to hear about this as I have enjoyed your blog and stories over the years. At risk of sounding cliche it does sound like you are meeting this head on which is a positive.

  105. Roger Lemstrom on said:

    Well damn…’s your time and all I can say is thank you. You’ve created real usable content for gazillions of men that has resulted in knowledge, self-awareness, and for some of us at least. A sense of peace and happiness. Your legacy is very much real. Not many people can say that.

    Fair winds and calm seas, brother.

  106. I found your blog not long after separation/divorce from 30 years of marriage.

    You and Rollo helped me find my way to the Red Pill and a new life on my own terms. And you helped me to navigate the dating world in my Fifties.

    Your honesty, writing ability, and willingness to help other men are an inspiration.

    Thank you so much for everything.

  107. O Patriarca on said:

    Yeah I read your blog on and off for a long time, never was one of my usual go-tos, not sure why because I really like your style. I’m commenting for the first time, this touched me. I’m a doctor, and you’re taking this as I would like to take it if I ever come to have some terrible shit like that.

    It’s also amazing that you took the trouble to put someone in charge of compiling your writings. Would love to see that manifesto but you probably have your last days to look ahead to and not focus on writing. Or not. Whatever suits you I guess.

    So kudos, thanks a lot, congratulations and safe journey wherever.

  108. jorgerobrod on said:

    So sorry to hear that you are going through this man…My mum suffered from breast cancer years ago and I know the whole impact of a situation like this.

    I have read a lot stuff relating to cancer healing through nutrition. Will do my best to provide you with the most accurate information on this matter. But my recommendations:
    1. Avoid sugar 100% ( no alcohol, snacks, fruit as it contains fructose). I know it is a painting but sugar consumption creates inflammation in our bodies that leads to cΓ‘ncer and other diseases.
    2. Fasting. Inducing yourself in periods of fasting of 24h will help kill the cancerous cells as they need lots of energy to survive. So stoping the intake of food will kill them.
    3. Start a Ketogenic diet, I will send you this later as I am at work and I cannot send you from my phone.
    4. Meditation: It is proved that becoming aware of your body Will boost your inmune system and also will help you relieve stress of this situation.

    I will send you more info as soon as I finish today.

  109. I just got back from the oncologist. The biopsy I had on Tuesday does indeed confirm that the melanoma has metastasized to my liver. But we all knew this anyway. My doctor pitched to me the idea of an immunotherapy with a medication called keytruda. Statistically speaking, it’s a helluva long shot shot. I’ll do some research on my own to see if this is something I’ll pursue.

    • T-Cell therapy at Sloan Kettering saved my daughter’s life after a bone marrow transplant complications arose. They are doing some amazing things with immune therapy!

  110. It’s Sunday, Feb 5th and I just found your blog. The little bit I read so far tells me that it’s going to be a trove of much needed council for my post-divorce, middle aged ass. But I read every word of this cancer thread. In the span of an hour, my heart soared as you had good news and sank with the bad. I’m going for a ride on my Harley tomorrow and I will be thinking of you as I’m doing so, and praying for you.

  111. I just had a talk with my oncologist. I’ve officially turned down that long-shot treatment. He was persistent but I am more stubborn. So, now comes the waiting part. Yeesh.

  112. Drew,
    Not only did you introduce me to the Red Pill, you made me laugh when I was miserable and lost. Your definition of the “Rationalization Hamster” and the story of you with the post wall woman on an internet date in the bar ( who you ripped apart) got me fucking hooked. Thank you. My sons are already benefiting from the doors you opened to the rest of the writers, who hold a torch for us..
    Jesus, you’re a tough Mother Fucker.
    PS A pat on the head to “Ugly Dog? ( King PUA) if he’s still around.

  113. PPS You look like Rooster Cogburn……..

  114. Having chorodial melanoma myself and 1 year 6 months past my plaque radiation I am in a holding pattern. Would you mind saying why you turned down the immunotherapy with keytruda? Could it be because it is primarily used to treat metastatic skin melanoma?

  115. Hamster Tamer on said:

    There should be a Special Guest Appearance by… Lucy The Ugly Dawgβ„’

    PS: Everyone knows bee-sting therapy is hogwash… it’s the SNAKE-BITE regimen that’s bringing the positive clinical results… mah bad…

  116. Some initial symptoms of liver problems are making themselves known. The whiteness of my remaining eye is slowly becoming discolored. As well, my fatigue level is going up. I simply need more sleep in order to maintain energy while I’m awake.

    • Matt Lawrence on said:

      Hang in there. I really want the chance to say goodbye to you in person.

    • Dearest Private Man

      I just watched your video with Stefan Molyneux, and I must say, I was extremely impressed. You’re a stellar man, with incredible wisdom and insight.

      I just wanted to pass along my best wishes to you, as you continue the last part of your journey here on earth. As your consciousness fades, and reemerges again in the other realm, you will have one hell of a ‘welcome home’ party. I can already here you saying, ” I just had a going away party. Not another party. Don’t you know, I’m the private man?!* πŸ™‚

      I pray that you don’t have to suffer long, and most importantly, have peace.

      Angela Porisky
      Edmonton Alberta, Canada

  117. Damn sorry to see you go, but here’s hoping that twenty rise to take your place. My dad died of liver failure, and for him there was little pain, and mostly just blissfully unconscious the last few days. Hoping the same for you.

  118. j. mcmanus on said:

    I just watched you with Stefan Molyneux, learned about your blog reading here a little bit I have melanoma since 2012 reocured november 2016 i see doctor jose lutzky at mount sinai in miami i did go with immiunoterapy i did not have surgery so i could watch it disappear from under my skin in couple of days 3 weeks after my first dose of medication opdivo + yervoy i was super responder side efects were minimal i was cancer free in 4 months on first pet scan after terapy started i just had my pet scan on feb 3 im cancer free Why not try ?

  119. I am just discovering your blog now. It looks quite good and just what I was looking for. I am sorry about your cancer – I really wish I can make it to your party March 4th — I am looking at flight prices right now. Coming from Toronto if it works out. Is there anything else we can do for you in the time remaining. My prayers are with you friend. Thank you for your contributions to the manosphere.

  120. bo jangles on said:

    I studied physics in college then medicine in my free time after. Western medicine is a fraud, it was taken over by the same people who took over oil. They did so to create a monopoly in order create the big pharma industry. The use the cover of science and experts to often push inferior treatments, while maintaining the veneer of superiority. A perfect example of this is how synthetic T4 became even the number one drug sold in the US. Consider that there doesn’t exist even one study showing it superior to the previous drug desiccated thyroid(that hillary clinton takes). There are many wonderful alternative treatments to cancer, probably the best is the gerson therapy. It has around a 40% success rate for cancer patients who were sent home to die. You can do it at home for yourself or you can go to their mexican clinic and talk to people there who have gone through it or are going through it and convince yourself that it isn’t just some quack treatment. The same elites who pushed the fraud of Feminism(find the youtube video from Gloria Steinam saying she was a CIA asset) also pushed the fraud of western medicine.

  121. I’m glad I had my going away party when I did. I’m beginning to have signs of liver distress. This includes some serious, irksome, but inconsistent abdominal pain. The hospice doctor says this is likely because of the cancer. As well, my remaining eye is now showing yellowish discoloration on the sides of the white of that eye, a sign of jaundice.

    Perhaps my schedule is being pulled back. I’m still prepared.

    • Michael Hiam on said:

      Andrew, you represent the epitome of class and courage, and your goodbye party reflected both. I was honored to be invited.

  122. Louise on said:

    I was excited to see your post because it means you are still with us. My thoughts were with you during your going away party. I hope you had a blast !! I would’ve loved to attend and met you in person. You may recall – we’ve communicated since your initial diagnosis as I too am an OM warrior. I am so #^@# mad at this cancer for taking you away from so many. Not just your loved ones but those of us who look forward to your posts about OM because you always provided your perspective with humor. May you be surrounded by love your remaining days. My husband and I will travel from Maryland to Miramar FL in April…. you will be in my thoughts….

  123. April? I think I’ll still be around by then. Perhaps we can all meet up.

    • Stephen Oliver on said:

      I’m so sorry about your health troubles. But I’m more sorry for myself that I miss out on an opportunity to hear from someone who’s been coming from the exact same place as me for such a long time. I went through a very similar experience to you through my youth here in Scotland and have only recently woken up and taken the red pill and am making my way in game. Guys like you are in some ways the saviours of our generation, who pioneered a new or grounded and more enlightened way of seeing reality. I’m currently going through all your good work and being a busy divorced dad of two just want to tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve achieved. Many thanks

  124. Louise on said:

    It would be great if we had an opportunity to meet.
    We will be in Florida helping to take care of our granddaughter.
    If “the stars align” for us to meet- it would be most likely be on Saturday, April 8…..
    I will be in touch ….

  125. The last four days have shown that I am not blessed with a pain-free experience regarding my cancer. Holy crap! At least hospice has given me a trove of painkillers.

    To get a sense of how bad things are, I’m now at the morphine (administered orally) level of pain management.

  126. Angels are working Hospice. Sorry I didn’t make it to your party, Andrew.

  127. Lane Mocksfield on said:

    I hope I can be even 1/2 the man you are if I’m ever in the same boat.

  128. Nickos the Great on said:

    You are an impressive human. You are handling this with class and humility. I admire you, sir.

  129. Thinking of you this morning, amigo.

    It’s easy sometimes, in a world hourly assaulted by entropy, in a society which smugly asserts that all the mysteries of the universe are either solved or mere days away from solution, to forget the utterly preposterous odds against us getting to experience life and consciousness at all. In the future we will use the word “Miracle” unironically again.

    By opening up a facet of reality that was closed off to most men … the XY chromosome’s version of “The Problem With No Name”, really … you returned personal agency to thousands of men to whom it was denied . You know the misery, emotional and financial damage this ignorance has caused even the mightiest of men; you know you have saved lives from destruction. Men and Women alike benefit from balance between the genders. By making the spread of this knowledge your mission you struck a blow against chaos and despair.

    Not a hint of exaggeration in anything I just wrote. This is a really, REALLY big deal, and you are a thoroughly decent human being. Blessings upon you.

  130. William on said:

    Andrew, I am so late getting to the party and hate that I missed the main event. Your perspective on this situation is as irrepressible as I know you to be and hope that you know in your deepest heart that all of us struggling with this nasty disease have been bettered by you and your honest funny and very real reflections. Peace.

  131. Aaron Kalahan on said:

    Thinking about you. Must be getting pretty rough.

  132. Matt Lawrence on said:

    It’s over. 9:27PM EDT.

    Rest in Peace my friend.

  133. Pingback: Lacrimosa | Scar Tissue

  134. LostSailor on said:

    Rest in peace, brother. I was an honor to know you. You were an inspiration to me after my divorce and just starting my Red Pill journey. And an inspiration at the end of yours. Tom would have been proud.

  135. Paula on said:

    Rest in Peace Private Man and God bless you and give you strength to carry on Private Woman. Benind every great man is a great woman.

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