Dying to know

It's getting harder and harder to write on here...by on here I mean my Streak with the damaged screen. I can get the screen fixed and although it's a bit ouch I can cover the cost but the point is you have to send it away and wait for it to be sent back and it seems a dopey time of year to be doing that, don't you think? I've wondered about saving up after my new carpet and getting a new 'thing' as they've stopped making this one now and I worry that repairs will get more difficult but I think I'll see how it goes eh? I'm not really at a time in my life when major investment seems a good idea!

I've never liked the idea of a prognosis...it has the air of a witch doctor's curse or death sentence to me. When I was working they made me get one to see if they could get rid of me. You could get your pension early they said, dangling the carrot of dosh. I said OK...you find out if you need to but I don't want to know what it is. There was a misunderstanding and I got the report. According to the oncologist I might have longer than I thought...short enough for the company to force my retirement but too long to get my pension. Teach me to be greedy eh?

I'm now in the 'at the most' part of what she thought I had left...and am not keen for a recalculation. My cancer was a bit more vigorous then, mind you so was my kidney and kidneys will get you just as surely as metastatic cancer, probably more so actually as they do such a vital job and have a direct link with so many other bodily systems. The most common cause of death for those with kidney failure is actually a heart attack. Your heartbeats go haywire sometimes and you think Oh, is this it? If you've ever had a panic attack you probably think you know what I'm talking about but I've had both and it's quite different actually (which is not very helpful to panickers, sorry!).

I've been told I'm dying in various ways quite a few times now. My first oncologist and his minions never made it clear and I assumed I'd get treatment and do all the right things would get well. When the treatments did all the wrong things they still didn't tell me. One of the GPs sent a palliative care nurse to see me and she asked why I thought I'd get better! Tactful huh? I went all cold and said 'Because no one's told me I won't.' And then a few months after that the demon urologist wrote some figures for me on the back of a bit of paper that turned out (accidently? on purpose?) to be a letter to the same GP saying 'this girl' (ie..me) was at 'end of life management'. I'd received a very different 'copy' of the letter and kicked up a bit of a stink and went for a long swim bristling with indignation and 'I'll show you!' But then the new oncologist said it straight out and my hair started to fall out overnight because I'd been through so much horror and no one had explained it had all actually just been to improve my quality of remaining life...and in fact optional...

A couple of years back things were very bad though, and I was told I could die at any time and I should inform people. I was in hospital at the time and I informed the people I had mobile numbers for, the people I most wanted to be there, the people I thought would want to know and care...and they were all busy and it made me very sad... and then I realised it didn't matter. That no matter how loved and grieved for someone is eventually those who miss them will die too and the people to whom they mattered also. Eventually they are just a name in a family tree or on a gravestone or maybe not even that... So many thousands upon thousands of lives come to an end on planet earth every single day and I actually find that comforting in a way...it's not like we're boldy going where no one has been before is it?