People always ask: "Is she getting better?" They need to know she's getting better. They want to hear nothing else. If we don't accommodate them (because we just don't know), they press harder. Finally, in the face of our non-committal responses (because we just don't know), they close the matter saying, "Good. Good." As though we said she is getting better.

Here's our problem with the "getting better" question. Cancer is a chronic disease; it's not like a broken arm that heals in a short period of time with the right treatment. Even if the symptoms go away after – or during – treatment, they can come back. We've learned that after five years of reports that there is no visible evidence of the disease, we can then believe that she has gotten better. Most friends and family don't have the patience for this long healing cycle. But we have no choice.

After getting the news about the cancer, some people disappear from our lives. Others draw closer than ever. Even family members react in these different ways. Our hearts were warmed by three low-pressure visits from Germany by Corinne's brother and his girlfriend during the four months of chemotherapy. My brother and sister made a cross-country visit, too. Some relatives and friends who are normally absent from our lives stayed absent; some made a special call, and then disappeared again. Some people are just too afraid of cancer to make any contact at all.

Some people seem compelled to play detective, trying to figure out just what Corinne did wrong to bring this cancer on herself. They seem not to understand how pointedly they are blaming her for having this terrible disease.