the art of dying gracefully

As I got into bed last night Blokey turned to me and asked me what the longest was anyone had survived ESRD through dialysis alone.  Years and years and years! I gushed, because I’d read that somewhere on ihd dot com.  Then the conversation went something like this:

Him: I’m going to die.
Me: We’re all going to die.
Him: But I probably won’t live to see … *pause* [I have no idea what he was going to say, or what he was thinking] … I’ve been paying into my private pension since I was eighteen [he’s mid-thirties now]; I won’t even get to enjoy that.
Me: Of course you will!  You take care of yourself. Besides, medical research could change things so much in just a short space of time!
Him: Yeh.
Me: I could get hit by a bus tomorrow.
Him: But you won’t.
Me: But I might. Or, a tsunami could come crashing through and we’ll all drown.
Him: I don’t think that will happen.
Me: Oh, okay.
Him: I’m going to die … *pause* … I’m going to sleep now.

See, I’m rubbish.  My husband suddenly decided to worry about dying and I couldn’t come up with anything to console him.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve been constantly worried about him dying since he was first in hospital.  I’m resigned to my fate, but I don’t want him to be resigned to his.  It isn’t even as though we haven’t talked about his (and my) death before, so I’m struggling to understand where the topic came from so unannounced at such a late hour.  Perhaps something happened to someone at dialysis. I don’t want to pry.

But I wish I knew what to say to him when he brings it up again.

We went to the pub for lunch today and he enjoyed half a pint of beer (*ssshhh*).  That perked him up a bit!



  1. Stupid computer posts unfinished comments.
    My husband comes up with that sort of thing last thing at night too. I think last thing at night has a particular thing about it. But it was mid afternoon when he told me that when his transplant fails, he has decided not to have dialysis or get another transplant. The no treatment treatment. I decided to wait that one out: I learnt that from IHD: people process stuff and say scary things and consider all the options don’t they. I said, if you have really thought it through then whatever you decide, I’ll support you. But I’d want you to have thought it through properly. When his transplant looked like it was going down, he said to me late at night, promise me you won’t marry a tosser, when I go. Gah. Late at night, its harder for me to keep it together.
    Probably the things you said he’ll think about. I reckon it all goes in there and adds to the mix.

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