" ... the cancer is in her lungs and other organs. She started aggressive chemo yesterday and will go through five days of treatment this week. The treatment will continue, and if that doesn't work, she'll go to MD Anderson for other treatment. ... I don't know much more than that but will keep you posted."

My God. Last year, she just had a spot on her face. She had it removed, and had to wear a big bandage for a while, but otherwise, she was fine. Aggressive chemo?

The above update was in reference to a friend in Texas. A mutual friend sent me that update today in an e-mail. It's the first time I've ever opened an e-mail with the word "cancer" in it in reference to one of my friends.

She's 36. We worked together at the Very Large Metropolitan Newspaper. Her second child was just born a few months ago. Her first child was born on the same day as our son. She's a hell of a journalist and, much more importantly, she's one of the nicest, smartest, gentlest people I know.

Cancer. Newborn baby. 36 years old. I'm at a loss. It seems so empty to say, "God, I hope she's OK." Well, no shit. And clearly, she's not OK. I know very, very little about cancer, but I know that the words "aggressive chemo" and "OK" aren't often found in the same sentence.

But, dammit, the English language fails me. Or I'm failing it. It's all I can do.

God, I hope she's OK.