During my chemotherapy, I had gotten close to another patient who was also being treated for ovarian cancer. She was much younger than I was. As we sat there hooked up to the machine that was injecting poison into our systems, we talked-about our lives, our feelings, our hopes, our regrets, etc. We became fast friends and, in some ways, each other's therapy. One day, she didn't show up. She was dead. I didn't ask what happened. I didn't want to know.