Table of contents for Cancer

1. This only happens to other people…
2. DEATH: The Final Frontier
3. Slice and dice
4. Friends in time of crisis
5. Life changes so quickly
6. Laughing
7. And then there is despair
8. Anja passed away today

To boldly go where everyone has gone before…

Right now, with my wife’s length of time left on this planet very uncertain [but ultimately very brief], we have both discussed the whole package that dying brings – the pain beforehand, our quality of life, and the moment of death itself. As mentioned before, we are realists and we understand why her death is not so far away, but as much as we are both terrified of the prospect and spend our days on a bizarre rollercoaster of emotions, the practicalities and logics still keep us focussed. Yes, we do realise that what we are experiencing is not a new phenomenon, it happens to millions every year, and yet for us it is all new and all very much ‘in our face‘ at all times.

To be truthful, I could write this post a hundred times a day and still come up with different perspectives and feelings nearly every time. Only moments ago, as I read through the last interviews of those who have already passed away, it jolted my senses and threw the floodgates of tears wide open, but now, I am in control again and can smile as I look at my wife, knowing we still have some time left. My wife is scared and very afraid of what the coming months hold. Scared of the prospect of the pain, the burden she feels she will put on those she loves, and scared of the unknown ahead.

And everyone who knows us and who knows Anja, have offered their sincere feelings of sorrow and generous offers of help, but in the end it all seems so meaningless and futile. Of course, we know the doctors and nursing staff will do their best to make this time as painless and bearable as possible and we will remain positive until the end. But the end will come all too soon. We both know this and accept it. Just how we will cope with it is uncertain, as we believe we need to experience this for ourselves to truly know how it feels. We also know though, that when the time comes, no amount of time or talk will prepare us enough.

And how can we describe how we really feel during all of this? Fine one minute and in tears the next. I start to say something and then realise that it no longer applies. We were making plans to move to Edinburgh just before this news fell upon us and now it is a lost dream. Even the mention of Scotland [a place we both love and adore] is almost too much to bear. Every piece of music evokes feelings and sadness. And on the other side of the coin, I watch Anja as she smiles and laughs and tells me she will fight the Reaper when he knocks, and I am just so thankful we still have this precious time together.

And as we both worry about the inevitable decline of health which accompanies cancer, and the rough road ahead that this will bring, I openly admit I am human and I think of myself too. Apart from the fact that any sadness and pain Anja feels, I feel as well, I also wonder what will become of me. The truth – I have no will to live when Anja has gone. Life will have no meaning to me anymore. We share everything we do. We are the closest of friends and share intimacy as only people who are truly in love ever do. I honestly see no point in my life ahead, so why live? Futility has never been one of my pursuits in life before, so why start now?

Conversely, I sit here and think I should be more positive. Perhaps I should take some videos and photos of Anja now while she is still in good spirits and whilst we still can laugh together. I know I will regret if I don’t, but is feels almost morbid to think this way.

An erratic post that does not make much sense? And yet, it is a true journal of where we are right now. Nothing is making much sense at the moment so why kid ourselves that reality is any different than it really is…