Dying With Dignity

She is always put together perfectly and today is no exception.

She’s tells me how she’s giving away her things and I decide against complimenting the beautiful opal she wears, fearful she might hand it over. We’ve been together for six years yet I know so little about her. Her husband is also my patient and has been very ill for several years. Despite his many medical issues he seemed to take care of her so it concerned me that he would die first.

Death decided he wants her instead. He stalks her but she stays gracious, not giving in to despair. She asks me about my daughters, she is honestly curious. She talks about how much her energy has ebbed but she is no longer frustrated by it. She teases her husband a little.

As she leaves she thanks me for taking such good care of her. How can she say that? I’ve failed. Neither I nor the oncologist can stop this inexorable process that is whittling her down to nothing. She hugs me as she leaves and I feel healed. What a startling reversal of roles.

 

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