Over at OpenSalon.com I posted a new personal essay, Cancer. What a Joke!
As soon as a friend, an acquaintance, or even the man-on-the-street discovered I had a loved one who was seriously ill, I ran into a typical line of questioning.
They: Oh no, your mother is not well. What does she have?
Me: Cancer.
They: Awful, what kind of cancer?
Me: Lung Cancer
(Bet you can predict the next question.)
They: Did she smoke?
Now perhaps pre-cancerous mom I would have asked a similar line of questions to a grieving friend. These questions seem automatic, like when you start to pee; it’s just so darn hard to stop midstream. But suddenly, in the Cancer Zone, though the final question seemed ugly, cruel, and completely unnecessary.
Discover how I ultimately answered that question here.
Peterson Toscano's A Musing 