While I was at work on Saturday, Tim was running a few errands. He saw a guy who looked familiar, although he couldn't place him. Although the fellow did not stop in his conversation, he really gave Tim a long look. Tim heard part of discussion. The familiar looking guy was explaining to someone that the doctor had just doubled his anti-anxiety medication. Tim continued on his way, still trying to place the fellow.
Later as Tim was headed across the parking lot, he saw that man again, getting into his car, and this time, the familiar looking fellow called out: "So, how's your wife doing?" he asked, and Tim answered back, "She's doing well. Busy. Working. Writing. Going to school." Although Tim never did figure out who the man was, we must have crossed paths with them during the whole cancer thing. The man looked at Tim and said, "How can you stand it? Don't you get worried that she'll get cancer again? Aren't you afraid?"
Tim was relating that story to me. He stopped right there. I said, "What did you say to him?" and he looked at me, uncertainly. "I didn't know what to say," he said. "I didn't say anything."
Cancer may hit one person, but the fallout affects everyone. Sometimes that's easy to forget.