It is funny how people show their concern, their affection. These days the two are almost one and the same. Hannah, dearest Hannah, sends emails apologising for her emails, apologising for being back in touch, when nothing could be more lovely.
Others, geographically closer, say - lets meet up, let's have lunch - are you up to it? Your brother D rings with details of his complicated life, always amazing you with his stoicism, determination. He drives for hours to help, never complains. Emma and Claire and Sarah, and others, say, how can we help, what can we do. Andy A has his role, and is, like Owen Meany, custom made for it, a Rolls-Royce.
Before chemotherapy, you meet old work friends. You miss the people, some you have come to trust implicitly. You miss the mental stimulation, the gossip, the infighting, the routine. You miss Andy A's complete disregard for social norms, everyone pretending they can't see him as he bunny hops around the building. You miss JC's principled, intellectual approach to requests and problems, JM's blunt, effective drive, and the energy of the place. You miss, above all, contributing. Now, you do not contribute, only consume, resources, time, effort.
Slowly, you walk to the ward, offer your arm to the nurse, disappoint the lady next to you by not wanting to talk, content for today with introspection, your own thoughts. Another lady, opposite, spends an hour complaining, almost literally non-stop, breathing perhaps through her ears. Then, marvellously, she says - they moan too much in this country. You are unable to suppress a snort of glee, although as the lady looks at you curiously, it thankfully turns into an extended coughing fit. The nurse comes over says, are you ok - and you smile and say, quite genuinely, oh yes.
This extended notice period, at the end, is so curious, so precious - and your mind goes back to a time in France when someone once said to you - this beautiful day is a gift from god - but something tells you that it's no more and no less precious than any other day, after all.
It is a time to impose order on a sometimes messy, haphazard life. Sometimes, actually mostly, even in the quiet solitary daytime hours, you are overwhelmed.
