November 24. My spouse and I had just been told the news of my metastasis, which had been followed with a truly unhelpful session with the hospital social worker (more on that another time).
As we were leaving the social worker's office, she handed us a parking pass, the first time either of us had seen such a thing.
We looked at the pass.
We looked at each other.
Me: "What do you know! With every death sentence..."
My spouse: "You get to park for free."