The big news here in Arizona tonight is the death of nineteen firefighters near Prescott. It’s the biggest American loss to a wildfire in eighty years, since the great 1933 Griffith Park fire in Los Angeles. Horrifying, and horrifically painful to contemplate.
On the other hand: Flying from Salt Lake City to Phoenix today, I sat next to a woman who was, she said, headed to Arizona for medical treatment. She comes every three weeks, from the greater Seattle area. I was, I assume, pretty visibly surprised at such a schedule, so she waxed lyrical about her experience with the Arizona facility of Cancer Treatment Center of America. Seriously. She went on and on about the quality of the medical care, the solicitousness of doctors and nurses, the excellent food, the full range of services from travel to lodging to spiritual care to acupuncture, the farm surrounding the facility on which it grows the organic produce for its kitchen. She was in really good spirits, having just received excellent results from a check-up with her doctor back in Washington. I don’t believe that I’ve ever heard such heartfelt enthusiasm for a hospital.
Death and life. Bitterly painful loss — but also victory. This life is hard. But there’s good in it.
Posted from Phoenix, Arizona