Kate (cartonka) wrote,
Kate
cartonka

Bernadette

Для всех англо-читающих. Это - пост моей подруги Бернадетт, которая прямо сейчас умирает от рака горла в Ирландии. Она пишет потрясающие вещи и я решила их сюда скопировать, вместе с моим комментарием.


Katapus...

Six days ago I had a meeting with the consultant mainly to see whether or not I could get a stent inserted in the esophageus to allow me to swallow a bit easier. Deep down I knew the answer already but my daughter insisted I make enquiries.

As I suspected, the procedure would not be worth it. Too much hassle and pain for too small a reward. The tumor is too high up and starting now to block my airway. In other words, I'm slowly being strangled to death. I knew this was happening (the patient knows everything first, by the way), but that didn't stop me from bursting into uncontrolable sobbing while the consultant held my hand and I asked him what I was supposed to do... how would I cope with being strangled to death... slowly.

I've watched enough Crime Investigation programmes on tv to know that being strangled quickly is quite bad enough and takes somebody very strong to pull it off. Katapus, it seems doesn't hurry itself. Nah, what's the rush when those hundred (kato) tentacles have all the time in the world to wrap themselves around anything they fancy, waltzing hither and thither as they tighten the noose.

By now the tears were falling on to his desk and my niece ran to get some tissue. Between spitting and crying, I wish I had shares in paper towel... Anyway, in response to my question, Dr Ravi, who's very sweet, said: 'You can come in to the hospital any time. You can come in today if you like.' Geez I wasn't ready for that so I looked at him through my tear-stained eyes and said: 'But I won't be coming out, will I? 'No,' he replied, 'the Palliative Team will kick in quicker and from there you will go to the hospice.' 'But, how will I handle being strangled...' 'We will use sedation,' he said and I could just imagine myself like a bloody zombie but grateful not be too aware of the true terror of the situation. I can justify being a zombie now.

Can I have until Monday?' I asked. 'Yes, of course you can. Just telephone and you can come when you are ready.' That was six days ago and today is Wednesday and I'm not back in hospital yet. I've been too busy thinking of what needs to be done before final lock-down. So, I got busy. I toured the church, I toured the funeral home, checked out the coffins. I toured a few graveyards (since I couldn't afford beautiful Glasnevin Cemetary, Ireland's equivalent of Pere Lachaise in Paris, France, and where my parents are buried). But that's okay, I found something else, near my loved ones and I won't feel I'm too far away from them. Plus, since a 'single plot' actually fits three, my sister says she'll get in with me later, so that's a nice comforting thought. It's good to do these things in advance. I feel very blessed and lucky...

I also packed my own bag this time instead of everything always being a last-minute rush job and others having to do it for me and not doing it right and forgetting things! Of course I want to bring the kitchen sink but that's not possible. I'm very slack to leave my little room here, my computer, my colour tv, my warm duvet... but, I don't want to overstay my welcome and be a screaming hyena in the throws of strangulation and no sedation about the place. I'd rather be where all that can be administered pronto!

So, I'm thinking of making that call tomorrow and asking to be admitted on Friday. Then I've got the weekend to settle in when there's little or no staff but at least I'll know the lay of the land by Monday. After that, it's one step at a time Sweet Jesus, one step at a time.
Gurdjieff always spoke about the 'Merciless Heropass,' and I always found that to be the most wonderful and precise description of Time. After all, Time is exactly that - merciless - it's here and it passes immediately - no two split seconds are the same. We are rarely aware of this on a daily basis. We are either happy or sad, early or late, good or bad. We are rarely aware that each passing second is eating away at our Time here and we rarely recognise how precious each of those seconds really is.

Goodnight for now. I'm sure the great media grapevine will spread any news there is to be had. If, by chance, they can't kill me or I won't die, I'll be back... promise!




Dear Bernadette! Today morning we've had a long and difficult discussion with Andrew, we were talking about life and death under the great impression of your facebook entries. My main thought was that we all are just splashes on the water surface, you know, like beautiful and unique, but too fast, too temporal. If one splash meets another one during its short life - well, this is lucky and great. My point is.... when the splash goes down and loses its form and seizes to be itself, it doesn't die. It simply goes down into the water, which it has always been. But it doesn't seize to exist. And soon enough there will be another splash made of exactly the same water, in which the first one just dissolved. Dear Bernadette, I'm crying too. But I feel like we are all made of the same water. Lots of love and kisses!
Tags: друзья, жизнь, мысли, перепост, печальное
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    Садик сегодня закрыт, потому что вчера риберский мэр выпустил штормовое предупреждение для всех учебных заведений. Ну, что поделать, мы пошли…