The most recent set of films showed that my cancer was growing again, so I went back on chemo today after an eight-week break. Not exactly fun, but not the worst thing in the world either. I was reminded of that earlier in the day, and reminded again how hard it is to feel sorry for oneself at a cancer center: I saw a child (she looked to be about 12-13 years old) who is here for treatment, and is obviously in worse shape than I’m in. It broke my heart to see her that way, and to think of the grief her parents must be going through. It also impressed me to see how kindly the doctors and nurses treated her. Cancer is a supremely ugly disease, but when skilled and good-hearted people work with cancer patients, sometimes the disease’s treatment takes on a kind of beauty. Heartbreaking beauty—it’s a strange concept, isn’t it?