A Sort Of Calm

Now I know what will kill me though I don’t know when it will happen and that knowledge brings a certain sort of calm.

I had always assumed that I would live into my nineties as did my parents and my mother’s sister but the odds are now that if I make 75 I will be doing well and somehow that doesn’t matter. After all, the purpose of life surely can’t just be to hang on to it for as long as possible no matter what it contains or what it’s quality.

Obviously I hope that when death comes be it in ten months or ten years then I want it to be free of pain and that it leaves me with my dignity intact. Dignity is still strangely important to me.

There is one practical implication. I had always assumed that I would survive Ann but clearly there is now a good chance that I will die first so all the vague strategies I had devised in odd moments for how I would manage without her are likely to be useless and instead we have to work out how she will survive and have a decent life after mine ends.

On Wednesday I will attend the Christie to have my rhenal function tested to see what sort of chemotherapy is most suitable for me. Hopefully that means I can start my first cycle the following Wednesday.