I’m finding this dying business to be too slow.
My brother at 72 was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and given 5 months to live. Despite all the chemo and radiation to please his family he died 5 months and 1 week later.
Who knew there were 3 types of thyroid cancer? The 3rd one usually isn’t discovered until it’s already at stage 4 and the prognosis is always the same.
I think he wanted to just go fishing everyday as long as he could, instead of everything they suggested to at least try. All the chemo and radiation just kept him deadly ill for the 5 months. Shame on them really.
My mother was the same, though at 92. Drove herself to the hospital on Thursday, died in my arms the following Wednesday despite all theirmedical expertise and efforts.
I’m more like my father, regretfully. His illness was like mine in that it took years and years to die, while seeing his quality of life shrink lower and lower.
I am giving in to the pain, giving up hope of getting better. Partially bad luck, partially bad medicine.
It appears my body is my enemy. Osteoarthritis in the spine is building new bone in the wrong places, with the latest MRI showing severe narrowing of the spinal column. As it narrows it puts pressure on the nerves going to the rest of my body.
There’s surgeries that can be done, but mine is so wide spread in the spine it was determined to be too much for me to handle. Multiple surgeries over an extended period of time. Medicine, pain meds, physio and the steroid injections, all of which I’ve been doing.
Having the surgery is no guarantee either. It may cause further complications, more pain and paralysis. Worth the risk?
I would rather get this dying business over quickly, rather than continue this suffering while my quality of life goes out the window. If I were to put my quality of life on a scale, a balance like Lady Justice holds, it’s really starting to tip the wrong way. The bad hours far outweigh the good.
If I were to end up in a wheelchair and lose my independence that would kill me. Relying on others, on their agendas, and hoping they can fit me in.
I wouldn’t be able to fulfill my dreams or my obligations.
I’ve seen the woman sitting outside on the corner, waiting for a wheel trans to pick her up. “They’re always late you know..at least it’s warming up.” She sits outside once a week at the bottom of the church steps.
I always stop and chat, she loves the dogs, and they behave around her for some unknown reason. Both sit patiently instead of jumping up and down, waiting for a simple scratch of the head.
I admire her determination, patience and life left in her eyes.
Am I as strong?