This movie is on here not for its overly romanced “inspiration porn” but for the personal story arch of the main female lead, Hazel (played by Shailene Woodley). I’m literally rewatching it as I’m typing this, and it’s pretty clear in the first 10 minutes how hard it’s trying to be all edgy and cool around the subject of death. Very much like, what’s it’s like going to university with a load of young adults that kinda like to wear their “I know a bit about Existentialism, so allow me to speak fondly on how pointless our lives and all existence is” badge like it deems them on a higher level than everyone else. Not really grasping the deeper nature of Existentialism as a whole. Be it beauty, film, music etc its so easy to be submerged in the face of it and not the underlying message, tone, or complexity of the piece itself. I feel the writers of movies like this are guilty of just that, they know how to sell struggle, torment, and adversity to the masses with little regard to the genuine thing. Stories get so twisted when someone is trying to sell you the happy ending, or equally as bad “gut wrenching” tragedy that is so shallow in its attempt to capture the beauty of said tragedy. The bigger message.

Yet this film makes the list as there was one part that spoke to me on a personal level. In the film she is a huge fan of a book, Imperial Affliction.

it isn’t really touched much on in the film, but it later becomes clear her obsession with the book seems to come from her need to know what happens next, not about the main character but their family. 

You can see how desperate she was for answers and the fact it couldn’t get them crushed her. She thought he, the author of the book, Peter Van Houten could them to her, all she wanted to know deep down was will her parents be ok without her. She saw herself in the character, just like at that time I saw myself in her.

It’s a strange story but I want to tell you about my own “cancer scare” (spoiler I didn’t have anything close).

Back when I was at college doing business, I had a few issues with, erm, turning yellow. Jaundice basically. Id be yellow for a few weeks, get tested for everything and then just stop out of nowhere. This happened for a while, at one point they said I probably had some type of hepatitis. Anyway, during a routine hospital admission they did a few more tests and X-rays etc and told me I’d get the results in a few weeks.  As promised, I got a letter informing me that I needed to meet a specialist doctor, he would be in a different building then my CF ward. It had the building number but not really the department I was going to (you already see where this is going).

So, I turned up, by myself as it was only a meeting and headed into the reception. One thing you’d probably guess is that people with cancer probably don’t like to be remined of the fact they have it. Even after leaving the building, I didn’t remember seeing any signage that screamed this is the cancer building. I spoke to the woman by reception who instantly asked who I’m there with. I still look 20 now so you can imagine how I looked at 20, with a slightly lost and curious look on my face. When I said I was there alone her face dropped and said “oh, erm that’s ok. You have us now”.

Honestly, I did think that was strange but after a few seconds I thought. Oh, what a sweet lady haha. Then the same thing happened with the second receptionist, who directed me to the doctors waiting room. My headphones had died on the bus, so I overheard to middle aged blokes sat talking. “How long you got”, one asked the other.

“Hopefully, another year or so” He was holding a car magazine, so I assumed they was talking about insurance or something (I don’t know a lot on cars). They he asked what type. I can’t remember his response, but it certainly wasn’t a car.

THAT’S when it finally hit me, it all added up. I was in the centre for diagnosing cancer. 

Well, fuck.

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, genuinely not about death. But having to tell my parents and family. It sounds grim but the idea of death doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is leaving everyone and everything behind. Knowing that I can’t do something just one more time. I can’t comfort my friends and family; I can’t remind them just how much I love them and what they mean to me. That thought honestly scares the shit out of me. So, I try and do the next best thing. I try to at least be memorable. Be random and spontaneous show them how much I care when I’m not around to tell them myself. I try to be that person with everyone I meet. If I can make their lives a little bit brighter, leave the earth a little bit better then how I left it, I will be really really happy.  

So, after dealing with all that for the 20 minutes, that felt like an hour, I was called in. I sat and he introduced himself and informed me he had found my diagnosis. I waited to hear the word you have liver cancer or something. He simply said I have a rather annoying liver stone. Just resting near the main valve out the liver. You see it would move a little block the valve and I would turn jaundice, then it would move back and I’m fine again. All will be fixed with some mediation I can get from my CF Pharmacist.

Now, shocked and confused, I asked why I was in the cancer centre. He simply said….

“Oh, this is just where my office is”

What a set of scary nobheads!! Hahaha they could have warned me before they tried to kill me with kindness.

Anyway, that was my, ‘not really cancer’ scare.