Things You Think when cooking for a Cancer Boy Boyfriend

It's funny, you don't even notice it unless you make yourself notice it -- the small accomodations you make every day for cancer.

I'm cooking a scrambled egg sandwich for lunch, and normally I'd throw out one yolk for every one I put in. Past tests show you get the same rich yolk taste even when you only use half as many yolks, so why eat that five grams of fat per yolk if you don't need to?

I'm fixin' to throw a yolk out and then check myself. Mark could use the nutrition. I put the yolk in.

Later, I'm stirring up the eggs, and get them just the way I like them -- just a little runny. I reach for the knob to turn off the flame, but check myself again. I have to cook these eggs through and through. Mark's slightly weakened immune system might not be able to handle the salmonella, if it's in there.

These are fleeting thoughts, I notice them out of the corner of my eye. These are the adjustments you make for cancer, our constant companion.

I think all the time that cancer is one of the first things in life I haven't been able to control or steer. We go through life exerting our will against things, and get to thinking that we pretty much are in control. And then cancer comes along and lets you know you were wrong all along. Control is an illusion. Here is a thing you can't do a thing about.

And so.