This post is brought to you by the fact that The Biggest Loser Couples is tonight, and I’m beside myself. I have prepared what I call Bikini Burgers for dinner (more on that if they turn out well), and Zoe is taking one of her rare naps. Thus, I blog.

This morning I had occasion to drive sans Zoe which meant that I could turn up the radio and sing to my heart’s content. Usually if I so much as sneeze, she is reminded that I am not in her direct line of sight, and she fusses. All told it was a brief and rather mundane experience, but it boosted my spirits a bit. Later Zoe and I went grocery shopping (since I had forgotten half the items on my list yesterday) and had a great time together. I swear she gets cuter every day.

My solitary outing was to my regular six-month checkup at the oncologist, just an exam and blood work, with an ultrasound to be scheduled. (We’re still waiting on a CT scan since I’m still nursing.) I hardly ever think about having had cancer anymore. Within the past 10 days, two people I know have died after over year-long battles with cancer, and my uncle recently passed away from an autoimmune disorder that was very difficult to manage. In all cases the disease was much more extensive than mine was, but I still hoped, even believed, that eventually they would be fine.

Joel and I talk all the time about how a cancer diagnosis is no longer a death sentence, how it’s more like a chronic illness, if not just a few months of hell in an otherwise normal life. When I tally up the cancer diagnoses of which I have been aware in my life, the survivor number outweighs the number of those who have died. But lately I am reminded that we still have a long way to go in understanding and treating disease. I ache for the families of the people I mentioned. It isn’t fair.

I stopped asking why a long time ago. The answers are generally unsatisfactory. There is no explaining, for example, why some things are curable and others are devastating. Or why I’m still here. It makes me nervous and grateful at once.