Whenever pharmaceuticals are advertised on television, the verbal disclaimer they’re forced to provide always seems far longer than the shiny, happy portion of the commercial (the sales pitch). And at the end, you inevitably get a list of potential side effects, many of which are contradictory: this drug may cause grogginess or insomnia; you may vomit, you may be unable to vomit; don’t operate heavy machinery, don’t avoid heavy machinery.
And in most cases, the side effects seem so incredibly heinous that I’m left wondering why anyone would consider taking this drug. You may get a ten-minute reprieve from the pains of rheumatoid arthritis, but you’ll spend the next two weeks unable to eat, sleep or leave the bathroom. There’s simply got to be a better way.
Maybe that’s what Oscar Grimm thought at the start of his journey with cancer.
(At this point, I should probably provide a disclaimer of my own: the purpose of this article is to inform you of one man’s experience. Your actions after reading it are entirely your responsibility. But it’s an inspiring story, so keep reading.)