Protocol of people interactions

I owe a lot of my renewed interest in painting to Sandy, a hairdresser at the barbershop I go for my haircut. It was Sandy, a talented water colorist herself, who introduced me to ‘free’ water color classes provided at a local community center. Although my interest in water color painting waned over time (too delicate for my taste), that exposure gave me the incentive to switch to oil painting, my favorite media. Sandy used to bring her recent paintings to the shop, and I very much enjoyed talking to her every time I met her. About eighteen months ago Sandy, who is in her mid fifties, was diagnosed with breast cancer, and had to undergo surgery and follow up chemo treatments. Although she looked weak and wore a scarf on her head to cover her loss of hair, I continued chatting with her as if there was nothing wrong with her. I was quite certain that she did not want to discuss her medical condition with me. Happily, in a few months Sandy recovered, got her hair back, resumed her painting, and everything got back to normal. But yesterday when I went for my haircut, I found Sandy wearing the scarf over her head again. ‘Are you back in treatment?’ I casually asked masking my shock at finding that her cancer has returned. She answered in the affirmative, and we chatted about her having no time to do painting anymore. She did not talk much, and started doing a crossword puzzle averting my eyes, as my barber cut my hair. I left the shop after my haircut, with a cheery ‘Take care, Sandy!’ giving no hint how upset I was. I guess I behaved exactly as a man is supposed to behave at a situation like this. Anything different would have upset the protocol of human interactions in this country!

Hang in there, Sandy. You are in my prayers.