When something awful happens to someone else, the power of the imagination is scary. You can't understand what it would feel like, or what you would do, or how you can help. It's paralysing. Also the disastrous potential - the destruction of the 'it'll never happen' bubble.
The cruelty of not being able to turn back time is hard to get your head around sometimes.
I wonder why I wrote this using 'you' and not 'me'. Clearly I'm talking about me, my filter, my imagination, my paralysis.
I was on the receiving end of this with tumourgate, and always suspected it was harder on those close to me. It's not pleasant though either way.