This is not a book about a disease itself, nor does it have any 'woe is me' or forced epiphanies on the meaning of life and health. It's a book about sobbing student nurses wielding sharp needles, falling hospital elevators, having to be surgically removed from your own sweater for an x-ray and support group brawls. About getting my whole family pulled off into a cement bunker at British customs for being more radioactive than a truck full of Russian nails. It's about sneaking nachos into the hospital at seven in the morning and making sweet, sweet love to the back of a parked taxi while having a stroke. This is a book about laughing and joyfully embracing the bizarre and the truly funny side of being ridiculously incurably diseased.So sit back, take a hit of your oxygen tank and get ready to laugh at the funny side of falling apart.At the very least you'll never look at a bed pan or an IV pole the same way again.