In watching my beloved counsellor die, I finally learned how to live
My therapist told me she was dying the way someone else might admit to cancelling their gym membership. Oh no, she told me when I asked how her immunotherapy was going, she had stopped all that. She sounded regretful but not distressed. I was confused. I knew the tumours in her lungs were inoperable but I had understood the cancer was all but beaten. I’d asked how the treatment was going only to check she wasn’t suffering any nasty side-effects.
Actually, the chemotherapy hadn’t worked and the immunotherapy was somehow making things worse. She had been offered another treatment but that would mean losing her hair and she would rather not. So no, she had given everything up except the oxygen.
