<human>: Can you condense the text into a few key points?

I'm a 45 female trainer who manages community center gym for six years.  These people I have known since I started working there.

The first part of the story is to share my experience today with those who may benefit from a little dose of reality perspective.

I have a horrible, misreable cold.  Worse one in years.  I slummed my way into work anyway, since no-doubt that's where I got the germ, so I was just careful to germicide everything I touched and kept my distance.  But the six hour shift couldn't end soon enough.

Then I got a dose of reality.  I was told a member of my senior exercise class had a heart attack.  Not in class, nor related to my class, but at home, her ailing husband drove her to ER, she was flight for lifed to another hospital.  She survived.  She will be fine.

My cold doesn't seem so bad.

Then another dose of reality. I heard other bad news.  An 81 year old who has been caring for his daughter who has a brain tumor in remission shared horrible news.  He has terminal bone cancer.  His daughters brain tumor came back.  Both will be deceased by 2016.

Suddenly I am ashamed of complaining about my stupid cold.

So that's the dose of perspective. Now on to the question.

What do I say to my friend, the terminal cancer one, when I see him?  I want to throw my arms around him and his wife and bawl my eyes out, hold hands and pray to God.

That doesn't seem like something someone in that position would want during their visit to the gym.

The other side of the spectrum seems no better.  Pretend like everything will be alright?

What can be said?
<bot>: those with experience facing their own mortality, or those who have dealt with loved ones who are, what do you want others to say?