WHEN I was 30, the ovarian cancer I’d had as a child returned after a 20-year hiatus. The new diagnosis arrived dramatically, when a trip to the emergency room revealed a tumor that was causing internal bleeding. During the week I spent in intensive care, my son, Leo, stopped speaking aloud and talked only in a whisper. He was almost 4.

Home from the hospital, I juggled a raft of medical appointments on top of the chaos of normal life. I had a young child, a part-time job as a librarian, a growing freelance writing career and a ridiculous number of volunteer commitments. My partner, Matthew, had a day job as an archivist and wrote articles on the side. As usual, my anxiety was all about money. Sometimes I find it easier to fret about money than to worry about big things like cancer.

My financial anxiety boiled over when we got a nice, fat tax refund a few months later. Normally, I would have used it to increase our retirement savings, which could always use an extra infusion. We both contributed to our workplace retirement accounts, and I set aside a little of my freelance income when I could. But I worried we weren’t saving enough. Like most of our friends, we were trying to juggle bills like mortgage payments and preschool tuition. I tended to use windfalls to play catch-up.

But this time I hesitated. It seemed crazy to keep saving for retirement when my chances of living that long were so uncertain. My cancer was not as aggressive as most ovarian cancers, and I was healthy again after surgery to remove the tumor. But my oncologist said there was a 70 percent chance the cancer would show up a third time. Another occurrence would mean more medical bills and missed work. Nobody pays freelancers for sick time.