There were things he could do… and some that he couldn’t.
He could finally sort the DVD title spines alphabetically across the shelves, as he had always intended. He could finish the novel that he’d put aside when things got busy. He could write the letter that he owes his cousin who lives overseas. He could gather together clothes that are overdue for dry-cleaning. He could empty the larder and clean it out before replacing things neatly. He could vacuum out the car and give it a wash and polish. He could sand down and repaint the garden’s aging bench seat. He could take the plant out of the pot and find a spot for it in the garden. He could fix the loose hinge on the shed door. He could edge the flowerbed with bricks to improve its appearance. He could trim the hedge in the front garden. He could oil the dry hinges on the garden gate. He could file his test results with the rest of his medical paperwork.
…but he couldn’t stop the cancer.