Hi. How are you? How's ya mom?

I just sat down at my desk this morning and my coffee mug was en route to my lips when I hear, "Hi! How are you? How's ya mom?" I love when people ask you about your sick mother, right after they ask how you are. First of all, I was doing fine, until you reminded me I have a sick mother. Second of all, did I say I wanted to discuss my mother? All I said was "fine." Somehow "fine" translated into "I'm not even awake yet, but I'd love to discuss how difficult cancer has been on my mom, me, the rest of my family."

But what I especially love, is when they ask about my mom when they really don't want to know. They want to hear "She's doing great! She's so positive!" so they can say, "You know, they say that staying positive helps people beat cancer!" Don't we all want to hear it? But the reality, is that cancer beats the shit out of people. It's like putting Barney in the octagon with Georges St Pierre. Sometimes, you just don't win. No one wants to hear that.

Enter co-worker John. Funny man of the department, loves the limelight, thinks he's clever, loves acting like he gives a damn about everyone, but has pictures of himself with strippers pouring beer down his throat on his facebook. Class-A douche bag. He's the unlucky victim that fatefully asked me how mom was this morning, just to make himself feel better for asking. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the situation and make it as awkward as possible.

Instead of giving him what he wanted to hear, I said, "You know what's gross? She's having to get her chest cavity drained through her back now."

"Oh!" he was shocked, caught off-guard, his feet now pointing in the direction of his hopeful exit. "I'm sorry to hear that." He was already regretting the question. One foot starts moving like it's going to take a step, but I don't let it. I have him right where I want him.

"Yeah it's too bad, because the fluid is actually protein that her liver is sweating away. It's crazy. You think of fluid and you think, like clear water or something, but this actually looks like straight up amber ale." I saw his face lighten a shade or two. Not done yet. "It used to collect in her abdomen, which used to get drained weekly - dude, they once took 5 liters of fluid out-" at this point, he actually took a step, but I got up and began following him.

"- but now, the fluid is seeping past two layers of muscle and into her chest so she can't breathe. They got 2 liters out of her chest last time! Nasty huh?"

He quickly tried to mask the look of disgust on his face with puppy dog eyes to express sympathy, but he let his nostrils flare too long. "Oh I....uh....that's too bad. Well tell her I'm thinking of her. Even though she doesn't really uh...know who I am." Mission accomplished.

"If I remember," I say with a secret smile on my lips as I turn my heels back towards my desk.

Wasn't it God who said, "Ask and you shall receive?" I was just channeling God. No big deal.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but the cancer patient's daughter will make you sorry.