“I felt okay, not sick, not wounded, just part of a new club in which no one wanted membership.”
Noreen was not immune to the effects of cancer, as her mother had experienced lung cancer, but she was not prepared for navigating cancer herself or how her faith would be tested. I Don’t Have Cancer When I’m Sleeping explores a husband and wife’s journey through her cancer. Twice. With a sense of understanding, love, and devotion, this as-told-by memoir offers the unvarnished truth about living and dying with cancer—a path in which time holds new meaning and priorities change.
For readers who want to hear a story of both struggle and hope, for readers who are going through the cancer experience or know someone who is, and for readers who are experiencing grief or are a surviving spouse trying to cope … there is every bit of perfectness in the imperfectness of being human.
Born and raised in a small central California farming town, Gary Sorg is no stranger to life’s endearing and challenging moments. He spent twenty years with the Merced County Sheriff’s Department, earning a bachelor’s in criminal justice and a master’s in correctional counseling along the way. Then he went on to a second career for the State of California Department of Justice at the Commission on Peace Officer Standards and Training. When not writing, Gary enjoys traveling with his wife, Janie, Bible study with friends, riding his motorcycle, target shooting, and time with family. Gary and Janie live near Sacramento.
“Many inspiring stories have been written about cancer survivors and their heroic battles with this insidious disease. This book does have a heroic central figure—Noreen—but it is not ‘about Noreen.’ It is about dealing with cancer and all the emotional and physical challenges one encounters when you ‘get cancer.’”
“I was part of the club now. Rows of people resting in their recliners, with tubes coming out of them, like we were all sitting around the pool at the spa or getting the full treatment at the salon.”
“It wasn’t painful like you might think injecting poison into your bloodstream would be. Chemo is … the medical version of ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’”
“At the end of about two hours, I was done. They unhooked me, I confirmed my appointment for next week on the way out, and that was it—no special instructions. I felt okay, not sick, not wounded, just part of a new club in which no one wanted membership.”
“At first, you feel no hope, just a big hole in your life. Then you begin to understand that there is light at the end of the tunnel, even though it is months away.”
“Losing my mum was a tragedy that tested my faith. Little did I know that I would need my faith to get through the biggest battle of my life.”
“Without someone to guide you who has been through it, you are just flying by the seat of your pants.”
“Even though I barely knew the chaplain, I chose him for the support I needed once more to get through the day."