So. I write to my friend who is, to all intents and purposes, terminal. In the hospital. With bags and tubes and discomfort and pain and anger and frustration and fear.
These are her wishes. This is her e-mail from last night exactly as written:
Not a great day
Intravenus injections daily now - no oral
Learned how to check blood
Endericonolist testing gor cancer now
Sugars still up but coming down
No visitors please right now
Cannot answer easily
Easier to communicate by email
I am not going anywhere
This is my reply:
I hope today is less painful for you.
I hope your spirit can take little journeys inside you to better places.
I remember an A-Frame near Tweed where we had such a happy weekend sitting by the water. I was knitting. You were cross stitching. And we talked and talked.
I still have your needlework (in a frame) hanging on my wall.
I thought to send a shared memory every day. I think that would help me if I were her.
Who's to tell? Who's to know?
I know I wouldn't want anyone around me. Email is good. Very, very good. The right distance.
And PS - this blog is anonymous, otherwise I would never breech her confidence.