May 9, 2017

I get a lot more mail now.

Most of them are from the hospital but the best one I get is from my insurance company. It seems to come about once a month and it says “This is Not a Bill.” Then it proceeds to give a breakdown of the cost of everything they’re paying for. I love that piece of mail because that is some AP level passive aggressive shit right there. I know. I’m Catholic. I have a PHD in Guilt.


This is not a bill we just wanted you to see how much you were costing us.

No it’s fine! We’ll just be over here going bankrupt so you can live.

(Ambetter singing) Swing Low, Sweet Chariot…

End of play.


I’m not sure what they want from me? An apology? A thank you note? Does Ambetter want me to go halvsies?

Growing up I went to Blessed Trinity Catholic Church in Greer, SC and the priest there was a guy named Father Nick. We called him Quick Nick because his masses lasted about 45 minutes. And he only had like four homilies and he used them in a loop. The theme of one of the four was “you only put down your cross to pick up a heavier one.”

I thought about that homily recently because a weird side effect of cancer is that when people talk to me they tend to downplay what is going on in their own lives. No matter how big their problems are. People are like “I’m depressed and my job makes me want murder people but it’s nothing compared to what you’re going through.” Or “The bridge collapsing has turned my thirty minute commute into a hour and forty five minutes each way, but it’s nothing compared to what y


ou’re going through.” I’m like yeah, yours sounds a lot worse. Sure I feel nauseous and run down after my treatment, but an hour and a half each way???? How do you do it????

You only put down your cross to pick up a heavier one.

We all face something. I don’t think one thing is necessarily worse than the other. Maybe I’m uniquely situated to face cancer. Maybe you’re uniquely situated to help a child with autism. Or take care of an aging parent. And while no one in equipped to handle traffic in Atlanta, maybe that cross is meant to teach you how to forgive someone who waits until last second to merge.

If you can forgive that, fighting cancer is a piece of cake.

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