Terminal Illness

This is tied to My Six Fears post

When I think about terminal illness, I think about all the people who have fought and continue to fight against cancer, liver, kidney failure, rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, alzheimer’s and other killers that have no cure.  I think about the body, which was once so vibrant and active, restricted to a lesser motility.  I think about life, which we have been given, slipping away from us.  And it frightens me now, as I have so many things that I want to hang around to see.

Truth be told, I have never been afraid to die.  I’m still not.  I know that I started to die the moment I was born, and I know that there is a far better existence that awaits me in Heaven.  I have never really wanted to live forever.  In fact, for years and years, I have had a DNR (do not resussitate) order, in the event that I were to become unable to speak for myself.  After about 15 years of arguing and discussing the reasons for my wishes, Beef has convinced me that I have too much to live for, and that I’d damn well better fight to live to see my babies grow up.  And so, I shall.

I have watched as terminal illness took the lives of some very sweet, dear people.  I have cleaned their homes and listened to their stories of struggles to breathe, move, and do the things they wanted to do.  I have sat beside beds and held hands and just lingered in the moments I had with them.  I never have the right words when something as serious as terminal illness stands in my presence.  It’s a force that I can’t rationalize.  It’s a paradox of a being in front of me, yet a spirit, being yielded up to another place.  I just want to make things better, but the reality of terminal illness is that it will never be better in this world.

And so, I fear terminal illness of myself, because I wouldn’t want someone to feel that helplessness of watching me disappear.  I fear terminal illness because there isn’t a timeline of suffering, it could be minutes, or it could go on for years.  I fear terminal illness of myself because I would never want my children to hurt from feeling helpless and unable to cope with that space in between life and death.  As I said before, I do not fear death, but I fear being sick for a time, and not being able to comfort those around me.