I’ve often wondered if getting cancer is like getting news that you’ll die in a few days. I’ve never had the misfortune of facing that problem, since my youth makes me care less about mortality than grubbing after every last dollar to feed myself. But soon, I may be in the position to know. Unfortunately, I’m not the one currently afflicted with cancer, but if I had the opportunity to spare her the pain and confusion, I’d gladly carry her onerous burden now.

Despite the natural confusion, and the natural curiousity enflamed by such a threat, I find myself wondering how everything will play out. I consoled myself by consoling her, and telling her it’s alright because surgery’s removed everything showing even a slightest hint of abnormality, but I know and she knows I don’t believe it.

I reached saturation point as I drove down the hill toward my house. It felt like a plunge into cold water. I said: “The lowest common denominator is death”. How encouraging, I thought to myself then. How encouraging, reminding her of her own mortality, I thought. But I was being selfish, you see, because I was reminding myself of my own mortality. How brilliant was that? Her reply was a muted “Yes” and it brought me back to my senses immediately. The light turned green and we drove up another hill. Things seemed brighter.

I said if it was all removed, then it was all removed, and since it was detected so early, I supposed there were only two things to worry about: recurrence and spread.

Recurrence and spread. Jesus Christ, this is how you live with your own mortality: reminders of your own impending death and the spreading cancer of those thoughts infecting everything you do, everything you touch and everything you think of. I wonder if she’s thinking about her future, and what’s left of it. The doctors told her not to tell anyone and confuse them, because while the diagnosis was cancer, she was scot free at the moment. Scot free at the moment?! I wanted to rage and tear him a new one, but I wondered at the use of it all.

But thank god for today because it’s crystalized the urgency I’ve not felt since the realization of my age struck me: I need to quit my job, I need to find something more worthwhile, and I need to be more than everyone else could ever be to her. I know this, because I know her, and because I’ve always wanted to be there for her.