In Which I Get Weird and Preachy (Just the Once, I Promise)

So my roommates and I agreed to ask someone to help us keep the apartment up to snuff for a while, since we figure I'll be a little too wiped during chemo to effectively bleach the grout lines between the kitchen floor tiles and line up the bottles in the medicine cabinet. We asked M, who I used to have help at my old apartment, and who I love, love, love.

This morning when she showed up we got to chatting ("chat" is an extremely generous description of what I manage in Spanish), and she told me that she had just had an abnormal mammogram and is undergoing further testing, but expects it to be cancer because she has already had breast cancer seven years ago. I spent my whole subway ride to work thinking about what a weird and unfair world it is when two people can potentially have the same problem, and be entirely differently equipped to deal with it. I got breast cancer and my pressing concerns were how to keep my apartment well-dusted and lavender-scented, and whether I should get some cute summery highlights in my wig. Someone else could have the same problem and still take the subway down from the Bronx to bleach grout.

This morning was an extra reminder that I am very lucky to be in the position I am while dealing with this problem. I live twenty minutes from the best breast cancer center in the country (the world?), I have a super Cadillac insurance plan, and I have an enormous support network (I can't say it enough so I'm thanking you once more, guys). While I appreciate so, so much all your thoughts, prayers, and well wishes, it would be great if you could subtract a minute or two and instead direct some of that positive ju-ju toward M and toward other people who may not have the luxury of dealing with this problem from a position of similar comfort. Even though this whole cancer thing sometimes seems daunting and scary, compared to most other people in the world, I have it really, really easy.