There Is at Least One Good Thing About Cancer

Who knew, but there is one (very) good thing about cancer: it's extraordinarily useful for restoring one's faith in humanity. 

When you have cancer people quickly begin to go out of their way to demonstrate how great they can be. At least that's been my experience. For example:

Food deliveries started a day or so after I got out of the hospital, and two weeks before my chemotherapy infusions start a co-worker has already created a web page soliciting ongoing deliveries to carry me through the first round of treatments. Unbelievable (to me anyway) numbers of people have signed up. And the one complaint about the schedule? There aren't enough opportunities for people to bring me food. 

I've already mentioned all the people who visited me in the hospital, which was completely great, but now I've got folks offering to accompany me to my chemotherapy infusion appointments. How amazing is that? I have co-workers who want to take time off work, give me a ride to Group Health, and then sit in a little cubicle (or whatever it turns out to me) with me for hours while I'm filled with toxic chemicals and, presumably, grow increasingly miserable. There may even be vomiting. How nice does someone have to be to choose to spend their time like this?

Then there's the wanna be taxi drivers. Even though I live three blocks from Group Health, that particular organization won't let me leave from most appointments without someone else to escort me. I've had exactly no difficulty finding people who are willing to leave work and/or change the ways they get to work in order to provide me with the required escort. 

As I mentioned earlier, all this cancer stuff came about in the midst of my S2BXS's and my divorce. And yet I've received cards and emails and texts from my S2BXS's family and friends -- people who likely thought they'd never have to interact with me again -- offering sympathy and assistance. It's incredibly nice of all these folks to look past the weirdness and reach out. 

And how great is it to have your colleagues step up and cover for all your work while you're stuck in the hospital? Or to use their connections to get you access to facilities and appointments that you wouldn't otherwise have? Or to spend their time searching for treatment options and sources of support you might find helpful? Or to share their own cancer experiences so I have a little better idea of what you're in for? Or, for that matter, to do your grocery shopping or come over and do your laundry?

Granted, if given the choice I'd certainly opt to continue to be a misanthropic cancer-free nob. But if I have to have the cancer, being the beneficiary of so much kindness isn't the world's worst trade off. 

And to everyone who's been so kind, thank you. 


Update:
I knew I was going to forget something important. I forgot about the liver donor line up. Before I even had my surgery, Sib4 found an academic paper written by some doctors in Croatia describing how they used live donor liver transplant to cure a woman who's colon cancer had metastasized to her liver. Shortly, pretty much all my relatives were calling to let me know I could have their livers. A pretty nice, though sadly futile, gesture. Apparently, American oncologists aren't impressed with the treatments Croatia considers cutting edge. No live donor liver transplants here.