Page 31 of While I’m Still Here

“I've changed my mind.”

“About reading it?”

“About cancer.”

“Fair.”

“I'd like to return it.”

“Do you have the receipt?”

“No. Do you think they'll take store credit?”

“Probably only if the tumour's unused.”

My eyes lift slowly towards him. “You've become significantly worse since I got cancer.”

“You laughed at the tit joke last night.”

“It was one moment of weakness.”

I open the folder again. This time, we read… or Colin reads. I stare at approximately every third paragraph while my brain snags on words that seem specifically designed to ruin a perfectly acceptable Tuesday morning.

Surgery.

Lymph nodes.

Pathology.

Chemotherapy.

Radiotherapy.

Hormone receptors.

Reconstruction.

There are diagrams.

I don't appreciate the diagrams. One features a little illustrated woman with dotted lines drawn across her breast. She looks remarkably calm about it. Smug bitch.

I push the leaflet towards Colin. “Look at her.”

He follows my finger. “Who?”

“Diagram Woman.”

“What about her?”

“She looks fine.”

“She's a line drawing, Bea.”

“Exactly. Smug bitch doesn't even have pores.” Colin presses his lips together. I can tell he's trying not to laugh. “Go on,” I tell him. “Laugh at the cancer patient.”

“I'm not laughing at the cancer patient.”

“You're laughing at Diagram Woman. Look at her face. Look how smug she looks.”