Phone Call

I just received a phone call from the Cancer Fund of America. I wasn't going to answer it, because I'd just walked in the door from dropping off Ian at work and taking the dogs to swim in the bathwater lake, and I needed to make a breakfast (I've had coffee—iced, with raw whole milk—but not yet my yoghurt and fruit), but I did answer, and here is what the lady said:

"We are an organization dedicated to helping women with various types of cancer get the care and supplies that they need."

And I thought wow, someone is calling me up to offer me some assistance, after all these years and all these treatments and all this therapy. I felt touched, and was looking forward to saying that no, I didn't need anything, that I have all the support and assistance I could ever use, and please find someone who needed help.

She went on, reiterating the assistance they offered, then paused briefly, and I was about to explain that I am fine and taken care of, and she said "So will you be willing to look over some information that I send you in the mail, and make a donation to help someone with cancer?"

I thought what?!?. I said "I have been dealing with cancer myself for ten years. I am currently undergoing chemotherapy. All of the resources I have, I need, to keep myself alive and healthy. "

She said, "Well, it doesn't take much to help out, just a little bit. Can I send you the information?"

And I thought, did you not just hear me? "No," I said, "I am not in a position to help others in this way right now."

Perhaps I am being selfish, childish, unkind. Because I have been, and continue to be, very lucky in my care. However, I have spent probably a couple hundred thousand dollars of my own money, a couple million of insurance money, and ten years of my life helping people—not just me—with cancer. At the moment, I tend to feel that that, plus however much more I have in my future (which will always be an unknown), is enough.