Been re-watching this series on Netflix. (For those who've not seen it, the series is about a straight-laced high school chemistry teacher who, when diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer, decides that the best way to try and provide for his pregnant wife and disabled teenager with what little time he has left is to use his chem knowledge to cook methamphetamine.)
Cancer plays an interesting role in the show. It's not the melody or the harmony, not even a dramatic horn solo. It's the drone note. The low and persistent hum. And yet it is the premise of the show. And it's a brilliant premise, really ... exploring the limits of what reasonable people are capable of when facing terminal illness, when nothing matters to them anymore except trying to ensure the health, safety, and happiness of the children they're going to leave behind.
I don't believe I'll go shopping for beakers and chemicals any time soon. But I can relate to the desperation of it.
Buy lots of life insurance while you're still healthy, people. I know -- it feels like throwing money away. Just do it.
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