Aug 10, 2012 - 10:15 pm
Before my diagnosis of stage 4 inoperable EC that's spread too far for radiotherapy, I found it hard to believe others in similar positions seeming to be facing up so bravely to what the docs were predicting for them. And then I joined the gang. After maybe 2 days of shock or something (can't remember now) I entered a 2-week zenlike phase of calm acceptance. Detecting that this was not doing my family much good, I made the conscious decision to overlay that with a proper good old fight. Bring on the chemo. Juice that veg. Vit-C gluttony is good. Maybe I'll astound the oncologist with two more 'Auld Lang Syne's. All with that safety net (if you can call it that) that I've gotten my head around a not-so-good outcome.
If there's one chink that can't be ignored in my otherwise perfect safety kit it is the thought that maybe (or pretty much definitely, according to docs) I won't be here with their mother for either of my boys when they reach adulthood, and that by even seeing the younger one reach 5, then I will have beaten the odds.
My point is not very original or radical - it is this. I think that people who are unquestionably nearing the end must be most comforted by knowing, and being told, that they have given their loved ones enough. Difficult to rationalise when they're so young (I have work to do) ... but hopefully very doable for patients with grown up families. Tell them you're ready when you know they are. I think I'd like to hear that.
In the imaginary scenario where I don't cure myself, that is.