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I don't know you that well, so I hope you don't think me a total hippo for 'dear'-ing you like this. But your situation touched me and I really feel like writing you some words.
First, thanks for posting here. It makes us think.
And you have done a terrific job already, if a voice from faraway Norway counts for anything.
It's not fair. Illness never is. Some years ago, on a board in Norway, a poster I knew suddenly posted a thread titled My Body. It was a long post of how his body was failing him, because he'd been diagnosed with cancer. He was afraid, and couldn't take in what was happening - not at all.
We all reacted differently to this, some stuck by, some shied away. Illness does that to people - it reminds us of our mortality, and when Fate points a finger at someone close to you, you sometimes take a step back to protect yourself. An irrational response, but very real. I tried to stick by, but what to do, what to do?! How can you post comments to a board on such a serious matter, and then in the next thread chat about car tyres or freaking politics? How can topics of that nature be aligned and compared at all?
He then entered into treatment, and told us all he wouldn't be around anymore as he would spend more time with his family and RL-friends. I encouraged this, as did many others, but felt like a complete hippocrite by doing so. Was it a genuine wish for his wellbeing or was his pain to much to handle? The relief I felt at his desicion told me. That night I stayed up, thinking about the whole situation, the way we relate to each other, the Internet(s), terminal illness, the online communities and all. I felt like a piece of shit, to tell you the truth. Every 5 minutes or so I hit the refresh-button and watched the My Body-topic, now voluminous by all the well-wishing, sink further and further down on the topic-list, slowly being replaced by subjects of what now seemed like utter insignificance. When it dropped to page 2, I unsubscribed from that board, logged off and decided to never participate in internet-related discussions again. It was kind of a crisis of confidence, if you understand?
Well, 'never' is a relative term, it appears ;-) As time went by, I kinda seeped back into virtual hobnobbing, first by posting work-related stuff (I'm a programmer), then politics in read-only mode, and finally the everyday gung-ho of give and take that makes up these places. But I didn't visit that board, because I didn't want to read the message of his death. I shied away.
Then one day, and because I'm the story-teller here and can allow myself certain freedoms ;-) : let's make it a beautiful spring day in anticipation of summer--the kinda day you should NOT spend in front of a computer, but lie with your backside down in the grass and chew on a straw--I finally went there, to check on something completely different. Or just read stuff, I don't remember. By now the memory of Pinocchio (his nick) had faded, and it just blew me away when I saw a post with his avatar and nick! Posted the day before. He was alive, God dammit!! And his reaction to his illness was: - Oh, that. It's years ago now.
It's a sunny story, I know. Kinda Reader's Digest. But nevertheless, it's a true story. Apart from the sunny day stuff, it happened more or less like laid out here. He got cancer, got treated and beat it.
I come from a cancer-ridden family and lost my mother to breast cancer in 1971. 12 years later my sister got it, but was treated and is still alive and kicking.
You can beat your illness too. Big hug to you.
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