Diagnosed with breast cancer, Anne Boyer discusses the treatment that is poisoning her body.
Search results
Posted inEditor's Pick
My Appetites
“On eating and coping mechanisms, childhood and self-control, criticism, love, cancer, and pandemics.”
Posted inNonfiction
The Girl I Didn’t Save
Cameron Dezen Hammon reflects on her frustrations as a Christian music minister for the terminally ill, unable to heal a cancer patient she cared for, and struggling to be compassionate at her belligerent Jewish father’s bedside.
Posted inEditor's Pick
‘My body feels like it is dying from the drugs that are meant to save me’: life as a cancer patient
When Anne Boyer was diagnosed with highly aggressive breast cancer, she was confronted with a cure so poisonous that her body’s fluids became toxic to other people and corrosive to her body’s own tissues.
Posted inFeature, Nonfiction, Science & Nature, Story
The Heart Wing
The muscle that never stops, until the very end. Is your heart a hardworking pump or a mystic miracle?
Posted inEditor's Pick
Jailed Ferguson Protester Joshua Williams Wants to Be Out There With Everyone
“We spoke this week by phone about the protests against police brutality that are sweeping the country. Williams’s plight has again bubbled to the surface on social media—as it has during other moments of public police abuse against black communities—offering a vivid reminder of the price that protesters can be forced to pay for their […]
Posted inStory
The Emptying
“I’m amazed at our human capacity to adapt to the unbearable. Almost anything can seem normal if it’s inflicted on us long enough.”
Posted inEditor's Pick
What Cancer Takes Away
As she goes through treatment for breast cancer, Anne Boyer considers what being sick has cost her — physically, financially and emotionally — along with the societal and environmental costs of high-priced treatments.
Posted inNonfiction
The Coastal Shelf
June Amelia Rose remembers coming out in her youth to a turbulent family as her mother died of cancer.
Posted inStory
Our Braided Bread
In my native New York, I don’t feel the need to perfume the air around me with the sweet scent of challah. But here in Iowa, there is a void I need to fill.
