In 1983, when my Dad was just 62 years old, he died of metastatic lung cancer, diagnosed only in the final week of his life. In fact, he and my mother attended a Valentine’s Day dance together the month before he was hospitalized. His doctor’s best guess about Dad’s symptoms: a persistent case of pneumonia.

Ironically, Dad was a non-smoker.

And as if being diagnosed with cancer is not bad enough, the negative stigma of having lung cancer, according to new Australian research, is related to poorer quality of life and higher psychological distress in those who are its victims.  Continue reading →