Kevin, poking head into bedroom where MA is lying down: How're you doing?
MA: [starts crying]
K: What? What is it?
MA: I have a cold! And I'm going to throw a party tomorrow. And I haven't been able to throw a party properly in ages! And I have a stupid cold! [continues weeping]
K: [sympathetically hugging, but also somewhat bemusedly] Didn't you just throw an end-of-chemo party?
MA: But I had to be so careful with my energy, and I only cooked a little bit! And yesterday and today I was fine, I was back to normal, I could shop and carry things and cook, and now my head is congested! I have a cold! [still weeping a bit, but also starting to feel totally ridiculous]
K: [pats MA on congested head comfortingly] It's just a cold. It's the same cold we all had, and it's really not that bad. You'll be okay. Rest, and you can do more party stuff tomorrow.
MA: [sniffling, pathetic] Okay.
(When you get cancer, they don't warn you that it's going to seriously cut into your social life.)