A salesman just called me. Normally, I don't answer my home phone - ever. It's my spam phone, and one I give out to everybody I don't want to talk to since I don't answer it.
But for some reason, I accidentally did. It must be my sickness making me slightly insane.
"Hi, I'm trying to reach Ann?"
"This is she."
"Hi Ann. This is Brad from California Family Fitness. I see you used to be a member and canceled your membership, and I was just wondering why?"
"Well, you see Brad, I've been diagnosed with Stage IV Breast Cancer, and there is no Stage V. I've been pretty busy with surgeries and chemo and am not well enough to exercise."
"No prob, no prob. Ann, we'd be happy to offer you a two week trial to get you back."
Momentary stunned silence from me.
"No thanks, Brad. Next week they are removing most of my liver, and like I said, I have stage IV cancer and it's possible I won't even be alive next year. So I don't think I'm going to be joining a fitness club."
"No prob, Ann, no prob. Well, you have a good night."
I am so wishing, since Brad thinks this is not a problem, that HE could be the one to deal with it instead of me.
Cut off your breast? Lose your hair? Perpetual chemo? The omnipresent thought of your 14 year old having to watch you die?