And then comes life ...

You know that song by Simon & Garfunkel with the line that runs, "My mind's distracted and confused ..."?  Well, that's me.

I have a friend whose cancer has returned.  She found out yesterday - although she knew it, felt it, understood it, the day before.

Three years ago she had a lumpectomy.  They said the margins were clear.  But the cancer was "triple negative" - a really aggressive form.  But the margins were clear.

For three years she's lived with the knowledge of Cancer.  For three years Cancer hung over her head like the shoe that one waits for.  The one that one is afraid will fall.

Well, it's fallen.

She has two small children and is married to a man who is probably as close to a saint on earth as there is anywhere.  They are a small and perfect family.

This whole thing is so not fair.

There is much that is not known right now.  We don't know if the new cancer is the same aggressive type as before.  We don't know if she'll lose one breast or two.  We don't know if it's anywhere else.

All I do know is that my friend is ill.  And there is nothing I can do about it except be there if she or her family need me.  This whole thing is, after all, not about me, what I feel, or how frustrated I am.

It's all about my friend Katy, her husband Gabe, and her kids.  And how to help her get better.

I so wish I could do more.

Ndinombethe.