I am reminded of the song from Rent, Seasons of Love. "Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear. Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes. How do you measure, measure a year?"
It's amazing how a day, an hour, a minute can instantaneously change so many things. I found out two days ago that my cousin, who is also a close friend, has cancer. She is only 42. All of a sudden, I don't know how to talk to her. My emails are short, vague and almost impersonal. I don't call, but send texts only instead. I fear that I will say the wrong thing and upset her, but I know that she needs my care and support. Why should I be so selfish right now?
She was supposed to hear more news from the doctor today. The appointment was at 3:00. She said she would let me know afterward what he had to say. It is 11:30 and I still haven't heard from her. I am desperately and obsessively checking my email every few minutes, expecting a message. It would have been so much easier to just call her. But I didn't. I won't. I'll wait instead.
How am I supposed to carry on with my normal, mundane things and talk to her about them as if they matter nearly as much as her battle right now. I have an exam tomorrow. Good luck, she'll say. Then she'll tell me she has her PET Scan scheduled. Good luck, I'll say. Somehow, that just seems lopsided, as if all of the luck should be reserved for her right now. My exam is nothing compared to hers.
I remember hearing once about the man who laughed away his cancer. I thought he wrote a book about it. I've tried and tried to find it, but with no luck. Maybe I imagined it. But I feel like along with lots of hope, we could all use a little laughter right now.
It's amazing how a day, an hour, a minute can instantaneously change so many things. I found out two days ago that my cousin, who is also a close friend, has cancer. She is only 42. All of a sudden, I don't know how to talk to her. My emails are short, vague and almost impersonal. I don't call, but send texts only instead. I fear that I will say the wrong thing and upset her, but I know that she needs my care and support. Why should I be so selfish right now?
She was supposed to hear more news from the doctor today. The appointment was at 3:00. She said she would let me know afterward what he had to say. It is 11:30 and I still haven't heard from her. I am desperately and obsessively checking my email every few minutes, expecting a message. It would have been so much easier to just call her. But I didn't. I won't. I'll wait instead.
How am I supposed to carry on with my normal, mundane things and talk to her about them as if they matter nearly as much as her battle right now. I have an exam tomorrow. Good luck, she'll say. Then she'll tell me she has her PET Scan scheduled. Good luck, I'll say. Somehow, that just seems lopsided, as if all of the luck should be reserved for her right now. My exam is nothing compared to hers.
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