Cancer Diary: Contours of the Last Days
There’s more hope these days when it comes to cancer—if it’s caught early, you’ve got a fighting chance. But people still die. Every year, every month, every day. Carl did. And recently, I stumbled across an article I wish had found its way to me before he died. It was written by Barbara Karnes, and it laid out something I hadn’t heard said quite so plainly before: “We die the way we live.” That line stopped me cold. Because she’s right—at least about Carl. He was an introvert to the core. Even after his diagnosis, there were no late-night heart-to-hearts, no raw confessions, no leaning into each other with the kind of aching honesty I craved. He simply couldn’t go there. And that silence—it wears on a caregiver. Carl was also an ostrich. I don’t say that with judgment. It’s just... true. All through our life together, I handled the hard stuff. He stayed sunny, cheerful, often by refusing to acknowledge the storm clouds altogether. Denial was his way of coping. It was how he kep...
