Tales from the Lung Void

On June 6, 2026, I was asked to give a two-minute speech at the Give a Breath 5k Walk/Run as a patient living with lung cancer. The event began with torrential rain, but the sun came out just as we started. Last year, I ran the course and paid little attention to the environment. This year, I mostly walked and jogged, which allowed me to take in the lush greenery, the songbirds, and the friendly dogs. I finished in a "PB" of 53 minutes. The following is my three-minute speech. A transcript follows below. Hello, I’m Luc. I’m 56 years old. I live in Vancouver with my wife, Sheryl; we have no children, no pets, and no mortgage. In January 2025, I finished the Disney World Marathon. Two months later, a lump on my neck led to a biopsy that confirmed advanced lung cancer. People ask if I have wisdom to share. I don’t, but I have observations from falling down a rabbit hole into the "Lung Void," where the air has grown curiouser and curiouser, and everything has gone quite...

On Friday, we visited the Vancouver Police Museum as part of the Tourism Challenge . One of the notable exhibits is the Morgue and Autopsy Suite. Located in a recreated 1970s autopsy suite, the historical displays detail exactly how pathologists determined a victim's cause of death. The collection includes actual pathological specimens, preserved body parts, and tissue cross-sections demonstrating injuries from blunt force, sharp force (such as stab wounds), and internal disease. One of the specimens depicts what I have: lung carcinoma. It was nice to finally put a face to the name.

A few weeks ago, the oncologic NP (nurse practitioner) described my health living with cancer as a line trending downward with periodic plateaus of stability. I suppose the trajectory continues in that pattern until the line hits the ground. There are no units on this imaginary graph. It could be days or months. Since science does not provide the answers I want, I have to resort to other methods, such as the ancient, reliable pseudoscience of palm reading. AI makes palmistry more accessible, and you can even get it to read out the interpretations in a soothing voice. Here is a photo of my left hand, followed by its analysis by AI in Pro mode. A palmistry analysis of a left hand, which is considered the "Fate" or "Potential" hand. It represents inherited traits, natural disposition, and the destiny dealt at the start of your journey. Shape: A broad, square Earth hand. Indicates practicality over theory. Life Line: A deep arc, showing robust baseline vitality. Inters...

While walking the path around Lost Lagoon with Sheryl recently, I noticed a suspicious artifact perched on a fence. A crow. It was clearly surveilling the pedestrians, panning its head rhythmically from side to side. This was obvious evidence that “Birds Aren’t Real.” Birds are actually drones operated by the United States government to spy on citizens of the world, as Peter McIndoe posited in 2017 . In April 2023, McIndoe held a TED Talk about the the satirical conspiracy theory. Why mention a fake drone conspiracy? Because in the cancer world, we have a very real, very dangerous equivalent: Cancer Denialism. But unlike the bird conspiracy, the people promoting these theories are deadly serious. There is no satirical punchline here. Here are the a few specific, prevailing theories of cancer denialism: The Emotional Conflict Theory (German New Medicine) Every tumor corresponds to a specific "conflict." For instance, a "nest-worry conflict" (worrying about a family ...

I think I’ve reached the age where I have to take a nap in the afternoon. Or something else. It started a few days ago as a “sleep attack” around 3 PM. My eyelids get heavy and close. The moment I lie down, I doze off into the twilight phase before falling asleep (hypnagogia). I wake up two hours later, thinking it’s morning. I force myself to go for a walk, which wakes me up. It’s not a painful experience, just curiouser and curiouser. Is this a side effect of chemotherapy on a background of morphine-induced drowsiness, or am I turning into a narcoleptic day vampire?

Blue Moon Marquee at The Wise. I wore full body armour coated in disinfectant (traditional Romanian garlic water) for safety. Sheryl found me a chair in the back, safely quarantined in the section reserved for bad dancers and other medical conditions.

Sheryl and I attended a presentation this evening titled “ A Gentle Conversation About the End of Life: What Matters Most? ” The panel consisted of four certified Death Doulas. The average age of the audience appeared to be about 70, which led me to conclude that I am far too young for the occasion. I’ve decided I’ve had enough of this cancer BS and I’m just not going to die anymore. In case my brain waves are not strong enough to affect the universe, I have a simple Plan B: bury the cancer and ascend to heaven. I’ll be wearing my “Who can resist these puppies?” hoodie on my last day.