These are the conversations you have when you have cancer. Your best day holds fear of when the worst day will hit again.
Joe’s cancer is genetic, or so the doctors tell us. They say that means it’s more aggressive and like any kind of cancer once you get the bug it’s easier for it to come back.
Joe never harps on this but in rare moments you’ll see a wave of pure worry on his face. It was one of the first things he thought of when he was first diagnosed. He said to me, “You can leave, you never signed up for this.”
He’s always worried about me and though I act unphased I’d be lying if I haven’t thought of it myself. I’ll have dreams of myself dressed in all black wearing one of those giant black hats with black lace over my face. I have no idea why all of a sudden I’d be blasted into another decade and lose all sense of fashion. But that must be years of movie wathing that has told me what a mourning wife must wear.