Thursday, September 17, 2015

Skipping the Line at Disneyworld: A Conversation with Comedian Jesse Case, Part Two

Graphic courtesy of Jesse Case

The second part of this conversation with Jesse Case started with me explaining how my anxiety manifested itself clinically when my dad was sick. He had a silent heart attack my senior year of college, and for the first time, I realized my parents' mortality. I felt that I was losing the person who gave me life and my framework, but that my influence in the situation was minimal, hence the source of some very intense anxiety. I told this story to Jesse, and part two of our conversation resumes here. And if you haven't read part one, go back and read that first.

--

Jesse: I've come at anxiety from the opposite angle of never thinking I've influenced anybody. When I got this diagnosis, it really bummed a lot of people out. People came out of the woodwork, and a lot of them are full of shit, but most of them aren't. People really care and are really great, and then I'm like, "Oh, I affect people. That's interesting." Because I never thought I really did.

I've never really worried about my time left. More time is always a bonus, but I've always been pretty in the moment. I was like a weird, punk rock kid. That's never been a huge issue for me, that I'm running out of time. There's a little bit of anxiety there, in the small stuff you want to get taken care of. You want to make sure everyone around you is okay. The hardest part - I know I've said this a lot on the show - is seeing my family go through this. And that's something that I do connect with you a lot on, the fact that I have a way bigger fear of losing my parents, going through something like you did with my parents. That's my biggest fear, is seeing them in the hospital bed. I would rather it be me. So a lot of my time is actually spent comforting those around me about my own condition.

Kelly: It sounds exhausting.

J: It's exhausting, depending on the person. It's exhausting if they make it all about them, but if it's just a good hang, then it's a nice distraction. And it also puts things into perspective for me because everything I say to them to calm them down, I realize, is the truth. Even if it's not really how I'm feeling, it just reinforces how I need to be thinking about stuff. Like, "This is no big deal. This happens to people. It's okay." And that's been relieving.

K: I was really also struck by what you've said on your show about how this is just "the thing" you deal with, but everyone else has "the thing" they're dealing with.

J: This doesn't minimize anything for anyone. I think the weirdest thing about having cancer is that it makes people not want to tell me their problems.

K: Don't you just want to hear their problems? I like to hear other people's problems.

J: Me too, but it makes them feel like an asshole. Like I'll be hanging out with a friend and they want to tell me about some crappy date they went on, and they're like, "Well, I guess I should stop complaining." And I say, "Dude, shut up. It doesn't matter. Just tell me the thing." None of what I'm dealing with minimizes any of anyone else's issues.

K: I think that this gets into this idea that I always think about, that all too often in our society we try to put a value judgement on if someone's suffering is worse than someone else's.

J: Well, that's impossible.

K: We have to put a value judgement on how this horrible thing is worse than this other horrible thing that happened to people. And I enjoy your attitude.

It's interesting because I wish more people just talked to cancer patients normally. I work at a cancer research hospital, and I was talking to this guy at my orientation who had never worked with patients before. He said, "I think it's going to be really hard. What am I going to do when I see a kid with cancer? I don't know what I'm going to stay to them." I respond, "Dude, they're just kids." And he said, "Well, you don't have kids, so you don't understand." But I do understand. I've worked with patients a little bit before being in the lab. I did this volunteer trip where I hung out with kids in an inpatient children's hospital. They're just kids. They just want to to play. They just want to do anything that any kid is going to do. It's hard to see a kid who's hooked up to a respirator. That does cause me to feel differently than I would about other kids who are "normal." At the end of the day, I think that people just want to be treated like people and be talked to like they are people with value because of who they are. It's just demeaning.

J: It is demeaning, and it's also a weird misunderstanding of people's own mortality. All this stuff with cancer, and I'm glad it exists I suppose, is that you get to skip the line at Disneyworld. And I wonder how I would feel if I was skipping the line at Disneyworld. Looking at the line, and wondering, "These people don't know they're going to die, too? Everyone in this line is going to fucking die. Like, why do I get to skip this line?" People talk to you like they're immortal. Like, "Oh, I'm so sorry this happened to you." But do you not think about things ever? Do you never think about things? You're on a respirator, too. We all end on a respirator.

K: I really agree with you on that.

J: And that's basically what life is. We go from 69ing to 96ing, as you learned, in your last relationship. You got 96ed hard on the phone. And I'm sorry about that.

This is a reference to something Jesse said earlier before the "interview" began. We were talking about if relationships with animals can be reciprocal, and he made a joke about how he 69's with his dog. I said something back about the amounts of peanut butter that must be involved in that relationship. He then said that we go from 69ing to 96ing when we break up with people. I thought that was hilarious, and true.

And then, we go from breathing to being on a respirator. And that's basically it. You could break it all down to a tweet. That's basically what life is.

K: That break up was the best thing that ever happened to me, though. I realized that you can make yourself happy. The placebo response and the way that we as individuals think about our own mortality and our own bodies has so much to do with our health outcome. And I don’t think it’s an accident that you’re doing so well, because of the attitude that you have. There’s this power of our own thought that we will never completely understand. So, I think that there’s something about how we see ourselves that influences how physically healthy we are.

J: Absolutely. You could view that even in less heavy things, like if you see yourself as an attractive person, then you appear more attractive to those around you.

K: I have struggled with that forever. I used to think I was not attractive.

J: Right.

I was about to continue when Jesse clarified that he didn’t mean to say “right,” like he was agreeing that I was unattractive. Thanks, dude.

K: I used to feel really uncomfortable with men. I used to have this horrible self image, and I don’t know what changed, but I realized that I actually am attractive. And, man. It just completely changed how people responded to me. And I think that you have to feel attractive if you’re going to be in a successful relationship. Again, it’s the framework of having your worldview being too small, and it’s great that one person might think I’m sexy, but I’m not spending every minute of day with that person. I want to walk around and have people maybe think that I’m attractive. And I can understand the need for that. I think in our society that it’s okay to want to feel attractive. We try to tell people that you shouldn’t care what you look like, but yeah, you should care what you look like if that is helpful to you. If that is making you feel like you contribute to the world more.

J: I refuse to associate with the ugly. If I see them out and about, I want them rounded up. Put into camps. Leaving the house and being all ugly, ugh. But really, I agree with what you’re saying.

Skipping ahead, I asked Jesse about how cancer patients get involved in research. I was curious to know general attitude of cancer patients toward participating in clinical trials or giving their tissue to science.

J: You want to do anything you can to help less people go through this. Immediately. Even if that pay off is two-hundred years from now, it doesn’t matter.

K: Do you think that’s universal to all the other patients that you’ve met?

J: It’s fairly universal. Anything you can do to contribute to research, you’ll just do it. Whatever you guys need, just take it. You need bone marrow? Let’s do this. Anything you can do to help, you would do it. You’re just in a position now where you can. I would have done that before, but I’m in a position now where I can be studied. I can be part of the data bank. I can contribute more to cancer research now than I ever could before. A lot of people go into phase I or phase II studies where they know that it’s not going to help their outcome. Sometimes it’s really invasive and it really sucks, but it’s the least you can do. I’ve been so poked and prodded and so much weird stuff has gone up my body recently in the interest of diagnosis.

K: Did you ever think you’d have so many things go up your butt? I can't imagine that. 

J: You can’t imagine what?

K: Things being put up my butt all the time.

J: Yes, but these people are professional. This is their job, and even if it is funny to them – “Oh my god, check out this guy’s butthole” – it still has nothing to do with me. It’s not demeaning to me. It’s just like, “Dude. Get a load of this guy’s butthole.” That’s fine. I don’t care.

Jesse is having surgery today to resect part of his colon and remove mets from his liver. He started to talk about the surgery at this point.

J: I've never had a surgery like this before. They’re going to have to shave half my body for it. I’m going to on the slab. There’s going to be a lot of people around. It’s going to be very well lit.

K: You said on your show that they aren’t going to know exactly what’s going on until they are inside your body. You’re going to be under anesthesia, and people are going to be making decisions about you and your outcome, and you don’t really have a say. In the moment, at least. Do you still have this attitude of being able to let things go, or is this anxiety-producing for you?

J: I sort of have a “let-it-go” attitude. My main anxiety about the surgery is, of course, the recovery. The idea that I’m going to have to stuck in a hospital for a week… that just sucks. It’s just a bummer.

When I got diagnosed, the original diagnosis was that I probably have two to three years to live, and the chances of there being a total cure were about 20 to 30 percent. With me, that was enough of a percentage for me say, "Well, let’s go for it." It’s all under the idea that I can bail on treatment at any time. I told them and they are all very aware of this, they can fuck me up as much as possible, if it will help. I don’t know if I’m going to have to have an colostomy bag or not. It’s one of those things where I could make the decision if it turns out I do have to have one, then sew me back up. But if that’s the cure, then do whatever you need to. I don’t care.

K: I’m assuming some people might not make that decision, though.

J: Some people don’t. Normally it’s people who are really elderly. If you’re eighty, and you’re like, "Nah, I don’t want to a colostomy bag." But I’m 29. Do what you need to.

K: What is the likelihood that you will have one? It sounded like, from what you said on the show, that you were initially going to have one, but now it sounds like you might not need to.

J: I’m going to have to have way less colon removed than they previously thought. It’s resectable, they are going to be able to sew it back together. If I do have a colostomy bag, it will be temporary, until the tissue on the incision heals enough for them to be able to sew it. Or they might be able to do it that day. The big risks in any surgery, especially involving anything where your colon or your liver is involved, is sepsis. Everything has to be super sealed because if anything from those organs leaks out into the rest of your body, it’s really bad news. Those are the big complication risks, so whatever they have to do to do that safely, I’m fine with. I don’t want liver bile leaking into my lungs, or something like that.

I’m going to be a mess. I’m going to be super out of it. The podcast is about to get real weird.

K: I’m really looking forward to it, and it’s going to be more listenable than you think. You’ll have some good material.

J: I’ve already done the show when I’m on chemo, where I’m just brain dead and don’t remember recording. This is going to be a new level of that.

K: On the show, sometimes you say, “This is going to be an episode where I’m drugged up,” but you end up saying something so profound, and you don’t even remember it!

J: I’m a pretty cool guy. I’m pretty cool, Kelly.

K: Clearly. You have a podcast with, I don't know, five listeners? 

J: I’m a comic genius, everyone just needs to accept that. It sucks I had to get cancer for people to realize it. Whatever.

I asked Jesse the following question not intending to use it, but he said I could use whatever I wanted from this talk, so...

K: So, if you have to have a colostomy bag, what would your sex life be like?

J: Well. That is an interesting question. It’s one I’ve looked into.


K: That would be the first thing I’d want to know.

J: It doesn't change. If I did have a colostomy bag, it would be during recovery. I wouldn't be doing anything anyway. 

K: You're not going to be wanting to have sex, I assume. The only time I don't want to have sex if I'm feeling really, really awful. Like if I'm physically unwell. 

J: Me too. 

K: Not everyone feels that way, though. 

J: It's been really interesting, getting diagnosed with this... you get apocalypse-style horny. Just like, a meteor is coming. Let's bang. But then at the same time, I'm loaded up on chemo, and it's really not possible. That's been weird having it just in my mind. 

K: So, not possible just that you physically couldn't do it?

J: You basically couldn't. You can't even masturbate. You're just too nauseous and sick. But then it's like all you want. 

As far as the colostomy bag goes, it's basically just a small tube comes that out of your stomach. It's way away from your junk. It's a bag that's adhesive but it's all wrapped around your whole stomach. It's almost like a really, really short tube top around someone's upper stomach. The technology has come really far. When I first heard about it, I was imagining carry around an IV bag full of shit. People go swimming and run marathons with them, it's not a problem. 

K: Are you worried, in general, about what your sex life is going to be like? Because of the fact that your tumor is kind of near your junk. 

J: Not really. Nothing they are doing is affecting my junk, which is great. The liver thing is laparoscopic, and the colon thing is going to be partially laparoscopic. So, it's not going to be some huge all across my stomach sort of scar thing. 

K: But that's hot! Ladies like that. 

J: Well, I sort of view that as like battle damage. Yeah, I beat cancer, so, suck this thing. 

There was a lot of laughter at that joke. It took me a minute before I could regain my composure. Jesse's response: "I know, I'm really romantic." 

K: How's your sex drive now?

J: It's around. 

K: That's a good sign. That probably means you're doing well. 

J: When things are able, sex is a goal of mine. It's a thing I'm into. And then other times it's just like having a cold. You know, you're just like, "Well, I can't do that right now."

I'm back in Nashville right now. I haven't lived here for ten years. I don't know anybody, so it's not like it's some huge option. If I were back in Los Angeles, and this sounds so cocky, it would be different. That would be something that would be on my mind a lot since it would be something I could make happen. Here, it's just kind of like...ugh. 

K: But that's how life is. When I was living at home for a period of time, it just wasn't really an option. It's wasn't something I worried about too much. 

J: It takes a backseat. No pun intended. 

Did you know that "no pun intended" is in itself a pun?

K: No! 

J: It's "nope, unintended." It's a vaudeville joke from the twenties. Did you a meet a pun? Nope, intended. No pun intended. 

K: That is crazy! I am going to tell everybody I know that the next time I hear them say that. 

J: I'm a wee bit of a joke historian. 

Laughter. 

No, seriously. I'm fascinated with the root of a joke's formula. 

K: I love people who are nerdy like that. No matter what it is, if there is some kind of nerddom, I immediately respect you.

--

Jesse and I both had to go at this point. I'm certainly thinking of him today, that he's probably under the knife right now. I didn't include this part of our conversation, but we talked about this study I read where a cohort of patients who were prayed for had measurably better health outcomes than those who weren't. I don't know if this study can be believed, but I ask that you keep Jesse in your thoughts today. Who the hell knows. Maybe it will work. 




No comments:

Post a Comment