He Asked Me to Stop Talking About My Cancer

and looked at me.

“You’re seriously doing this now? While you’re sick?”

I almost admired it.

The nerve.

As if the timing was rude.

I said, “I was sick when you told me to shut up about cancer.”

He winced. Not from shame. From hearing the sentence plain.

He tried a different tack.

“I was overwhelmed.”

“Three weeks overwhelmed?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You continue reading …