A few days ago my friend with breast cancer sent me a  text saying that her hair has all fallen out. 
I wasn't quite sure what to say, since there doesn't really seem to be an up side to the whole situation, so I asked her the question that I have had for a long time, but never had the appropriate person to ask, which is  "does all your hair fall out, or just the hair on your head?"
She said that all you hair can fall out, but so far her's is just on her head. 
I was wondering this because most people look really lousy without eyebrows. 
Now, it might seem like a bad thing to ask a sort of personal hair question to a person going through chemo, but I know my friend well enough to know that she would find my question funny and that it would please her to have me say something funny, rather than pile on a lot more concern, which I have already done and has sort of been done to death to her.
Everyone is super concerned, but no once can do a damn thing, so there we are all, sitting around being concerned and serious, doing nothing. 
Baking muffins, that is what I have done.  
Baking muffins and making silly cracks to make her laugh.  
That is just about all I can think of to do.
We found out recently that another mutual friend of ours has thyroid cancer.  She is a nice lady, one of the nicest people I can imagine. 
One of those nice people with a nice life. 
She is a lesbian, and has a nice wife, and two nice children and chickens. 
And nice dogs. 
And cancer. 
It made me really outraged when I heard about it. 
I feel that cancer should be reserved for the rich and horrible. 
They deserve to be sick and can afford the care that comes along with sickness.  they can afford to be off work and nauseated.
My newly bald friend is a social worker.  She is poor, with shitty insurance that only covers the crappiest of care. She is a single mother, with a daughter that needs her.  It makes me livid to think of her being sick while some smug asshole with lots of money gets to be well. Mark tells me that my feeling that way is irrational.  I felt exactly the same way when Maxwell was sick as a baby, and when Mark was diagnosed with cancer last year. 
It just isn't right. 
I hold a grudge, the injustice of it all makes me crazy. 
I wish there was someone to complain to. 
I wish there was some kind of cosmic customer service counter, where I could fill out one of those comment cards.  Boy do I love those cards!
Mark had his cancer screen on Friday and it was clear. 
It has been 15 months since his surgery and he is doing well.  He is also a nice person, who had no business getting sick and making his wife nervous. 
He is a person who, despite annoying me frequently, has not ever done anything bad in his whole life. 
One of those sickeningly honest and righteous people, that vote, floss and pay attention to current affairs. 
He doesn't even eat cheese for god sake.