Last week my family got the startling news that a close friend of ours was dying. It came as a big shock to all of us: he had always seemed to be too big and strong to suffer from the diseases and problems that the rest of us have to go through. This was despite having been treated for melanoma more than 18 years ago. I guess after all that time, we though he was invincible.
Melanoma is a horrible disease to get, and despite having been free of it for the best part of two decades, we were all surprised when we were told that it had come back in our friend. At it had come back with a vengeance as well - metastases to kidneys, liver, lymph nodes all over the place.
It's a totally different experience visiting somebody in a palliative care setting as a visitor rather than as a
professional. Despite my experience in dealing with dying patients, when it happens to somebody you care about, it really hits you hard. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't talk ask him about symptoms or how it all started or whatever I normally ask patients. It is my friend. He is dying. That's all that matters. I'm there. That's all that matters. How did it start? That doesn't matter one bit.
