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Tom Galli



Step 1 – Invest in sophisticated diagnosics before diagnosis

If you smoke, were a long-term smoker, or are in an occupation that exposes you to carcinogenic toxins (asbestos removal, auto mechanic, painter, etc.), I suggest getting a computed tomography (CT) scan, often called a CAT scan, of the chest once a year. Insurance now covers it and CT will detect tumors far earlier than a chest x-ray. Early detection of small tumors dramatically enhances your survival chances. I had a chest x-ray in January 2004 and was diagnosed with stage 3b, non-small cell lung cancer the following month. The tumor hadn’t shown on the x-ray; but at diagnosis, it was almost 3 inches long and ½ inch in diameter. The only symptom I had was coughing up blood the day before diagnosis. Learn more about early CT screening.

Step 2 – Choose a good general practitioner 

Your general practitioner may be the manager of your lung cancer treatment. The GP likely will pick your cancer team and may need to do a little arm-twisting to get things moving. Therefore, there can be great benefits to having a GP who is seasoned and well known in the medical community. I prefer doctors of osteopathic medicine to medical doctors. I’ve found that in my experience the former treat people, not patients. I believe a good physician shows kindness, consideration, and compassion toward those in his or her care. These characteristics are essential. Be sure you know your GP and your GP knows you. Such knowledge and trust will give you a survival edge. There are great health care professionals out there.

Step 3 – Ensure your oncologist is a physician

A doctor has a degree in medicine and a license to practice. A physician is devoted to restoring, maintaining, and promoting your good health. My physician oncologist does a complete examination (looks in eyes, nose, and throat, checks pulse in the extremities, checks reflexes, listens to breathing and heart rate) every visit. He reviews and explains all test results and asks how I feel. He looks at me as I speak, and he listens and makes notes on what I say. He carefully explains medical treatment alternatives that may arrest the disease, and together we choose each next step. He never rushes consultations and, consequently, often is late to scheduled appointments. Because his tardiness results from spending time with those he treats, I know he cares about me and every other patient. These are some characteristics your physician oncologist should possess.

Step 4 – Learn about your disease

At diagnosis, I had no idea what lung cancer was. Moreover, I didn’t know what an oncologist did, nor could I spell the word! After diagnosis, I read everything I could find about the disease; a good resource is the www.LUNGevity.org website. Then I read medical journals, government reports, research papers, and studies. I made notes about things I didn’t understand and asked questions at my oncology consultations. My wife attended every consultation, procedure, and test to ensure every question was asked and answered, and that we understood the answers. You need to know about type, stage, statistics, radiation, diagnostics, chemotherapy, side effects, surgical options, and so much more. Your chances of survival are improved if you are informed enough to ask highly perceptive questions.

Step 5 – Acquire a sanguine attitude quickly

Cancer is a disease of death; lung cancer kills more than all other cancers. Your attitude toward treatment is, I believe, essential to survival. When you acquire a sanguine attitude, your treatment team will notice your optimism. They will enjoy interacting with you; they will care about you. I strongly suggest you read Stephen Jay Gould’s essay “The Median Isn’t the Message” to help you understand survival statistics and find optimism about what appear to be bleak probability of survival projections. Join a cancer blog or messageboard. I am a member of several where I can broadcast my complaints and protestations to people who understand and have useful advice for coping. Find cancer support groups and join one. Most people who treat you have no idea how you are feeling. But survivors in cancer support groups understand; they know how you feel—you’ll fit right in!

Step 6 – Any port in a storm

There is no such thing as “a little stick!” During procedures and treatment, almost everyone will attempt to gain access to your veins with an intravenous device of some type. All such intrusions are uncomfortable, and unless the practitioner is good and lucky he or she will miss more often than not. If your treatment involves intravenously administered chemotherapy, you likely will get stuck at least once a week. A good way to avoid discomfort and frustration is to ask for a port. Installation involves simple, low-risk surgery. Once in place, you need to keep the area clean and exercise precautions when bathing—but access to your veins is no longer a storm but a port in a storm!

Step 7 – Don’t believe the miracle cure

The consequences of a lung cancer diagnosis are frightening. For most, it will be your first serious encounter with the prospect of death. When you type “lung cancer” into Google, you will be bombarded by advertisement that promises miracle cure at considerable expense. There is no such thing as a miracle cure! Before you invest time (now precious) investigating one of these “too good to be true” remedies, check it out on www.quackwatch.org and discuss it with your physician. Oncology is a medical science. Procedures, drugs, and protocols are tested using scientific methods that are published and reviewed by peers and regulating organizations. When science-based breakthroughs are discovered, they are broadcast very quickly throughout the practitioner community.Read about Steve Jobs—one of the smartest technologists and businessmen the world has ever known—who delayed his cancer treatment.

Step 8 – Don’t try to tough it out

I am a retired soldier and believed I was man enough to handle almost anything. Cancer proved to be the “anything” I could not handle! I suffered a long time trying to tough it out before I admitted I was depressed. My physician’s response: “Of course you are depressed—how could you not be?” He prescribed appropriate medication, arranged consultations with a psychologist, and suggested I attend support groups. Unless you are tougher than I, you will experience depression. Admit it and accept help. Here are some other things you might try. Ask for the “freeze spray” before an IV is used. If claustrophobic, get a script for Xanax and take it shortly before scans. Even in summer, wear warm clothing to diagnostic and infusion sessions. Some areas where these take place are kept very cold. Many treatment centers have volunteers—engage one in conversation. Many are survivors or caregivers and have a wealth of helpful information. During consultations, I was so frightened I couldn’t rationally ask questions about results or next steps, and I certainly couldn’t remember what was said. Consequently, I never go alone to a consultation. I suggest if you can, always have someone with you too.

Step 9 – Become a calendar maniac

If you have a smartphone with a calendar application, become an expert in its use. If not, keep a paper “cancer calendar” to record information. Your life after diagnosis will likely become filled with scheduled appointments, and given the nature of the disease and intensity of the battle, these are appointments you don’t want to miss. For example, my chemotherapy cycle required an infusion every third Friday. I had to record three rounds of steroid medication taken every six hours before each infusion. I had a scheduled blood test every Monday following infusion. Nausea started Sunday morning and lasted until Tuesday. Joint pain started Wednesday and lasted until Saturday. If I took the nausea medication about an hour before onset, symptoms often were minimal. Furthermore, if I started pain medication a couple of hours before onset, my pain was manageable. I used the alarm feature on my phone to warn me in advance. Plus, there was life to live, and the calendar helped me avoid conflicts between my cancer treatment schedule and my life events schedule.

Step 10 – Choose to live

When asked about my cancer experience, I often tell those in treatment that cancer is a disease of life or death. I believe if you choose treatment, you are choosing life. And if you choose to live, do something with the life you are given. The “something” will be different for each of us, but doing whatever you enjoy or find fulfilling is so important. If you enjoyed an activity before diagnosis, do it afterward. Look at yourself in the mirror every morning. If you don’t see an expiration date stamped on your forehead, then enjoy the day and look forward to the next! Oh, by the way, your hair will grow back! Baldness is a beautiful badge of courage.

Stay the course.


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Because I know he has limited tolerance for reading up on stuff, this is the one and only thing I've sent my dear hubby to read thus far. Thank you for being a beacon of hope to me and so many others, Tom.

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Tom, I read this originally after my initial post on the newbie topic back in January this year.  I found your reply to my post highly encouraging and all your articles quite "sanguine" as you put it 😊  7 months (and a lot of treatments) later, I'm reading it again and it's still good, if not better.  Thank you. 

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Tom,  thanks for all of the information.  I am sure I will refer to it time and time again as I go through this journey.  You give me such inspiration, hope, how to survive and live.  Enjoy your cruise!!

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Thank you Tom! There is some some excellent, factual, and usable spiritual advice here that anyone, at any point should take to heart! Especially if one is a Newbie. I could have used it two years ago! Thanks again!   

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Not sure how I missed this one, but thank you for this and ALL of your posts. I honestly don't know what we'd do without you here!  I'm having a particularly tough morning and read this - it helps. Big cyber hug for you. Thank you.


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Thanks for sharing your wisdom born of experience I am so grateful I found this forum.

I spoke to a Lung Cancer nurse yesterday from the Australian Lung foundation, and she asked where I had found my information I told her it from from this forum and told her it was a shame that we had nothing like this in Oz, her name is Nicole and she said she was going to look the forum up and join if she could so she can see how it works and perhaps replicate it here, I really hope she can do that.


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There is no need to replicate or license LUNGevity in Australia. We are an international non profit and Australians are free to use this forum or the LUNGevity.org website. We have many international members and participants.

Stay the course.


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Oh thanks Tom I think she would like to do something similar here in Oz through the Australian Lung foundation.  I have found this forum extremely helpful and I am as ready as I can be for my surgery in June, a Mini Thoracotomy a smaller incision and less rib separation apparently my fingers are crossed, it's a method used to replace heart valves and since this beastie is near my pulmonary artery I guess that's near to my heart anyway feeling positive and taking things one step at a time. I have hired the recliner bought myself  a wedge etc and  she was very impressed that I had found all this info, perhaps the Aussie Lung Foundation could provide a link here for lung cancer patients I will mention it next time I speak to her in a month or so after my surgery.  

Blessings :-)

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Thanks Tom - diagnosed "officially" last week; staffing of my case and staging to occur during the lung cancer team's meeting this Friday morning 10/28/22.  I was excited today because I didn't have a test or procedure scheduled and did not have to wear sweats/t-shirt/no metal, take off all my jewelry, not eat/drink, etc.

It's all so overwhelming and is happening so fast.  Hope to start chemo next week, and aside from my husband, I haven't told anyone about this yet (was waiting for ALL the information so I could share it in one conversation with each person [son, mother, brothers, girlfriends, etc.] and not have to deal with 15 phone calls/texts a day asking if I found out something else, what the test results showed, when my next test was, etc.). 

I appreciate the info you shared above - very helpful - especially the part about living the life that you have.  I ride an 850 pound Harley Davidson motorcycle (by myself, in other words, my husband has his bike and I have mine), and this past weekend, we rode bikes all weekend like we always do...rode to another state and back on Sunday.  For this reason, I just cannot believe that I am not going to be around in a few months like the stats say for SCLC with malignant pleural effusion. I refuse to believe it - I am going to fight - and whatever happens, I'm going to take your advice and "do something" with every day I get.  Thank you!

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