The C word

It strikes again. A classmate of mine just found out that her cancer has metastasized. She's been in remission for the last few years but hasn't been feeling well for a month now. It's never a good time to find out, but it's been particularly harsh for her to not be able to finish out the semester. Chemo starts in a few weeks. We don't know the prognosis yet, but it's not looking good. This is a very rare cancer, and the fact that it has metastasized is very bad.

We're working on a plan to help - groceries, company, dinner.... but we can't help with the bills. The rough part about being a grad student (or really just a person in the US) is that health insurance is dependent on employment. We get fairly inexpensive insurance here. But what happens if she can't take classes and TA in the fall? Her insurance will expire in August. If she can't comeback, it will be because she's too sick. This means she'll need the insurance (chemo and cancer not being a particularly inexpensive disease). So she's also facing a terrible catch22. We talked about this a lot after Dad died. Illness is most expensive for those who can least afford it. Why we can as a nation afford billion (trillion? I don't even know) war and weapons but not health care?

Farm U is reminding me a bit of CityU right now. People have banded together and are acting like family, rather than the "system". We have quickly shifted into discussions about who will do what, and are trying to help and support each other. And interesting wrinkle is the cross-cultural nature of our department. I spent a while today talking with my officemate (from China) about the appropriate responses to finding out that she has cancer. Officemate was surprised that she knew- telling me that people with cancer in China never know, because their families don't tell them. This way, everyone is "happy". We talked for awhile about what it meant for the diagnosis and prognosis to be known. We talked about what types of support and comfort could be given. Although I A NOT GRATEFUL for me previous experiences with cancer (and PLEASE do NOT tell me anything like that), I know that I can rely a little bit on them, and be a better friend because of them. I know that I can avoid saying the unhelpful things- and instead offer a hug, a tissue, and a shoulder to cry on. I won't tell her it's going to be better. I won't tell her that it's part of the "plan". I don't know if she believes this or not. But I can offer her friendship right now.

So, tonight I'm sitting here, ostensibly writing a paper, and thinking about her. She's not writing her papers, as she can't focus with the dose of oxycodone she's on. We'll be babysitting her pet for a while, and doing what we can to make sure she's not alone.

And, for now, I'm feeling very sad. Very scared. And, honestly, pretty pissed off. Damn cancer. She's my age.