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Robert Lipsyte's witty memoir of his struggle with testicular cancer is an unconventional mix of journalistic narrative and common sense advice on how he learned to live with serious illness. Lipsyte, a successful journalist and sportswriter, was diagnosed with this distinctive type of men's cancer at age 40. Overall, it's a strong account of how an active man faced serious illness, tacking the medical system with the same strength and energy that he brought to other areas of his life.
He talks of his travels through a strange land he calls "Malady" -- a disorienting world of doctors, nurses, family members, hospitals, and cancer. When travelling in Malady, familiar comforts are strangely unavailable. The inhabitants speak a foreign language. The culture of "Mediquette" replaces normal human interaction. This is not a trip you want to take by yourself. Regarding doctors, he sums it up by saying "We don't need socialized medicine as badly as we need more socialized people practicing medicine." We see the reality of day-to-day disruptions and new routines replacing familiar ones. Anyone who has had to deal with a hospital will smile in recognition as we watch him "work the system," scheming to find any lever to pull that will make the impersonal monolith respond to his real needs.
Lipsyte the sportswriter also describes a medical game pitting the "home team" of medical personnel versus the patient "visitors." You can tell the players by their uniforms. Patients wear green smocks that tie in the back and leave their bottoms exposed, while the macho home team wear efficient, color-coded uniforms designating their many ranks and status levels. The dashing "jock surgeons" are particular stars, exuding confidence at the top of the pecking order.
This is also a memoir of how Lipsyte watched with anguish as his first wife, Margie, struggled with her own breast cancer. There is a sensitive account of Margie's mastectomy, adaptation to living after her surgery, and finally her death.
Lipsyte's direct, journalistic writing style comes across like a fast-reading Sunday feature piece. This will make the book accessible for many readers but off-putting for others. Lipsyte also uses "tumor humor" to keep his spirits up. For him, gallows humor is "chemotherapy for the spirit," an essential coping tool as he fights back against what could be an overwhelming situation. His disease took a heavy toll on his career, family, and marriage.