It's pretty weird. My mom just died of cancer a little more than a week ago. I thought it would be a bad idea to read this article, as it would just pointlessly make me (more) depressed. Yet, at the end, I really just felt numb to any emotion. There was just the same distinct sensation where nobody has any idea what I feel like, even this guy who just lost his wife. The more I think about it, the more it seems I don't really know what I'm feeling myself.
All the grief, anger, and beyond that, the feeling that any emotion I have is absolutely useless. I search for an explanation, all the while my brain is telling me that I'm stupid for even looking. What's the point of explaining what I'm going through to anyone? What can they do?
I don't really know what my point is. I'd be tempted to just say "life sucks", but I'd rather not be unreasonably pessimistic.
I was fresh out of college. I had just landed my dream job. I was living at home making really good money so I could get myself on my feet and pay down college debt. My dad was a runner and healthy as can be. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in late winter and was dead before Christmas after chemo and surgery ultimately failed. He was 46 and I was 23.
At the time I was almost numb. I was sad, but not as sad as you think ahead of time you would be in a situation like that. It was only with the distance of time that I realized how depressed I must have truly been.
I don't know how old you are, or what else you have going on in your life, but even if you think people can't help you, surrounding yourself with people that care about you is vitally important. I don't have any great insights other than to invest time and effort into the relationships with people who care about you and whom you care about.
In time, the loss of my dad has become a part of who I am. If there is one positive outcome it is that it has certainly helped me set priorities in life. I realized through that experience that possessions, money, promotions, career, etc... all the things that we think are important are so meaningless in the grand scheme of things (though it's shockingly easy for me to get complacent and forget this lesson). People are what is important. Love and caring for our families and friends is one of the only things we have that transcends time and space to make a difference in another human being.
At least he went fast from the time of diagnosis. If I get cancer, that's how I want to go: in a few months time from diagnosis. I don't want to spend several years being tortured with anxiety and fear and pain.
Unfortunately, it was not all the gradual, "smooth" downward progression of slowly coming to terms that one might imagine. Cancer is a cruel, cruel roller coaster ride. He responded to chemo + radiation really well and in the August before he died they went in to remove the tumor. I have a photo of him beaming ear to ear when we went out to dinner a few days before. He looked perfectly healthy and normal. We were all in high spirits that he'd be one of the few lucky ones that makes it through the death sentence that is pancreatic cancer. When the docs at Johns Hopkins opened him up to start removing the tumor, they realized what they thought was scar tissue left over from radiation was actually embedded inoperable tumor tissue embedded in the hepatic portal vein. So they closed him up and that was that. We went from an unbelievable high of thinking he'd beat this thing, to the very low reality that it was all over. They offered all sorts of exotic treatments, but he had lost the will to fight it anymore. He went home after recovery resigned to death.
So while it was certainly rapid, the highs and lows of it all made it much more emotionally wrecking than you might think from the timeline. But it was certainly quick. He was also fortunate to feel mostly fine for the vast majority of it.
Depression doesn't feel like grief or anger. Depression is the emptiness, the numbness of not feeling anything.
You don't "recover" from the loss of a loved one. You don't get back to where you were before. You don't "get over" it, nor should you want to. Your life has changed and there is a big hole in it. But you do adjust to it. You do learn to cope with it and find a new way to live with it.
Sorry if that's not uplifting, but it's what I found.
This reminds me very strongly of an approach described (in a very personal way) by the Dalai Lama - when talking about sorrow and regret he says
We have this idea that we either have it or we get rid of it and the
question came from that point of view….But there’s an ability to be
pierced to the heart by the sorrow of the world and your own regrets
without it dragging you down.
> You don't "recover" from the loss of a loved one. ... You do learn to cope with it and find a new way to live with it.
This can be applicable not only to losing someone to death, but also to the end of any relationship, especially if you did not truly want it to end. It changes you, and you learn to cope.
The uplifting part in this is that you grow as an individual, and you are more hardened to handle difficult things in the future.
I've found that any complaints about small things in my life generally go unsaid. Before my Mom died of cancer I would have perhaps talked about, "I can't believe this happened on <favorite reality show> last week, <rant />," I now let a lot of unpleasant things wash over me, knowing that there are fewer truly important items in the world worth getting riled up over.
I really don't agree at all, based on my own experiences (personal, though they may be, and with absolutely no desire to be a snarky contrarian). Depression has been all but numbness to me.
Deep seated regret. The aftermath of an anxiety realized. The period after my worst fears come to life. Isolation. Abandonment. Powerlessness. Set adrift in an ocean of problems no one created, and no one can solve, never to return, never to set foot on dry land again. Perhaps with a meager ration of hope, that looks like it's going to burn off in the blistering sunlight of ordinary day-to-day struggles, amidst the windless doldrums of routine, before a sea of bad luck swallows me whole.
The way out is through, though we don't always make it home to normalcy in one peice.
My mom died to melanoma in August. The first days and weeks are the hardest. It gets better, but the article's last paragraph really hits the nail on the head: it's those random, special moments that you had that will get you. Whether it's a movie that you used to watch together or an activity she loved doing, those moments are the worst because, like you said, no one knows how you feel.
Life isn't fair and it does fucking suck, but you've got to look forward. Live your life now and in the present. Reading stories like this help and I find them therapeutic almost. It's not an easy experience losing someone too young to cancer and being able to relate to someone's story helps/helped me feel less alone about it.
When my mom passed, I felt like I was supposed to feel a certain way - overwhelming grief.
I felt that, plus a bunch of other things. Even some "selfish" things like feeling glad the ordeal was over. I felt bad about feeling things like that and had a lot of "internal arguments" about that.
A breakthrough came when I gave myself permission to feel whatever I wanted to feel, even if it was "stupid" or "selfish" according to arbitrary moral standards. And that those things didn't mean that I loved or missed her any less. Less judging, more feeling.
Everybody's story is different. That was just part of my story in case it's helpful to somebody else. Maybe you can work a little bit of it into yours, or not.
You have to figure out how you feel, so that these feelings do not rule you forever. It will take a lot of time, a lot of pain, and even more patience, but you have to remember that a hard year or longer is little compared to your whole life.
Life does suck, and there is little you can do about that, but it is also wonderful. If you manage to live with all the bad things, you will be able to spend your energy on making life more wonderful for yourself and people you care about. Not only is this what your mother would have wanted, it is also what you want, under all the pain.
Unfortunately, I have some experience with this topic, although a decade ago. Much like parenthood, you'll find everyone has very well meaning, yet typically useless advice, so don't take it personally when they won't leave you alone or they sound out of touch. And, here's my contribution in the genre:
"There was just the same distinct sensation where nobody has any idea what I feel like"
Oh, I bet your family has a glimmer of an idea. Spending time with them, just doing "stuff" with them, even just talking or emailing, will help. The funeral-industrial complex is heavily monetized and optimized for massive profit simulation of what you actually need. So don't expect that wearing a suit for two hours while paying multiple kilobucks will have much effect, or worry if it doesn't. Then again, however pitiful it is of a simulation of whats needed, funeral rituals do at least imply the right track, "increased familial interaction" for awhile seems to help quite a bit. TLDR the funeral will be a waste of time and money, yet it is none the less sorta pointing in the correct direction, so whatever you normally do with your family, do more of it for a bit, you'll feel better.
Also its your head, don't let people tell you what it should be thinking, as long as its not hurting you. So don't sweat not following the grieving steps in the precise order for the correct amount of time at what they claim is the correct intensity. Whatever path you take, you'll get there your own right way eventually.
Hang in there. If she were anything like my father, then one thing your mother likely worried about was that you would feel this way when she was gone. The more positive you can be looking forward, the better she would have felt.
Yeah, it's pretty crazy, I know that's just how she would feel. There's definitely lots of hope and love in me, but it's just really a lot for my brain to handle. I think it's going to take a while to fully process (if I ever do). When I was staying with her near the end I somehow managed to kick my not-coding streak and start a coding streak I've been keeping up with. Kinda helps to just keep my mind cranking along...
Thanks for the kind words. Even though there's the part of me that is saying all these emotions are pointless, it still feels good to hear things like that.
The only thing I will add is, take your time. I never anticipated how long it would take. I tried to fight grief (nothing to do with parents), now I realize it was unnecessary. You will have good days, you will have bad days but you will make peace. Its just that nobody knows how long it takes.
....and yeah mutagen, promising stuff, I remember it from a discussion long past.
It's been 4 years since my mom died of cancer. She fought it for 4 years. You will recover from the grief, but it takes time. I remember the numb phase clearly. Grieving is a process. A professional psychologist can help it go faster.
My Mom died of ovarian cancer 1 year 11 months and 1 day ago.
What did I learn?
* Quality of life teeters on the edge of a nail. One day things can be great, the next you're looking into the abyss. Although this can seem dreary, this is more reason to enjoy the health and quality of life you have today.
* There is never a wrong time to go after the things you feel are important. When I found my Mom was diagnosed, I disengaged from work for a good couple weeks thanks to a great manager (and, thankfully, a pretty convenient lull in strong deadlines). After much soul searching, I knew that life was too short to work at the large company I was working at, and it was time to pursue my dreams of being self-employed, something I knew I wanted to do full time since I was ten years old. Seriously, I knew I wanted to be self-employed even back then. That was over 2.5 years ago, and I am still happily self-employed. My Mom's illness gave me the perspective I needed to stop worrying too much about certain types of failure, especially since I had been saving up a reasonable emergency fund in case my self-employment experiment failed. Thankfully, it has not!
* Steve Jobs's fantastic Stanford commencement speech lucidly talks about this realization: "Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart." To be clear: that does not mean YOLO, nor does it encourage making unwise decisions. But the death of my Mom was the ultimate in sobering reminders of the importance of this thought, and since that reminder it has shaped many parts of my life.
As someone else commented, whatever emotions you feel are okay, as long as they are not hurting you. Surrounding yourself with any friends and loved ones is the path to healing, even if they don't understand what you're going through. Find those that will stick by you and not judge, or at least will listen to you.
I'm sorry for your loss. My father passed away in December of 2012 (after a 9 year battle with cancer). In fact, I posted on here mere hours afterward in regards to a goodbye blog post someone wrote to their father that was submitted here.
While things have been difficult, life will continue as it always has. Try to remember the good parts and celebrate their life rather than mourn their loss.
I went through this when I was 18. It sucks and you will always miss them, but life will get better. Not the same as before, but as good. All you can do is put one foot in front of the other and keep plodding on. It's a cliche but time really is a healer.
I was declared in remission from cancer in April 2013.
My stepdad died of cancer in April 2013.
My mother-in-law died of cancer in August 2013 (we had gotten married exactly one week prior so she could be there)
It's not the same experience, nothing can be. But I felt what you describe. Empty. Numb, but distraught at the same time. Happy that they were at peace and horrible that I felt that way.
New things fill up some of the void, but there are still days where I want to curl up in a ball and just stop for awhile.
You've been emotionally wounded. You'll heal. There will be scar tissue, and it will take a long time, but eventually there will be days where all you think about is the good memories and not the bad.
I lost my mother two years ago yesterday and can sympathize. The first few days/weeks are the hardest because in many cases the pain is too fresh and it hasn't hit home yet. It takes time.
I found myself depressed and found that speaking with someone and working out like crazy made a massive difference--other than getting me in shape. Working out helps w/ serotonin production.
You should give yourself some time, but after a few weeks, think about seeing someone if you find yourself getting angrier or sad than you usually do. I would have never said it before, but it makes a difference.
I'm going to be reinforcing your feeling that no one understands how you feel.
I'm really sorry about about the death of you're mother. Death however, is part of life. People die, and people close to you will continue to die at an increasing rate until it is finally your turn. I understand that you are grieving and that losing a loved one (especially a parent, child or partner) is an extremely painful event. But that doesn't mean that all of life sucks.
So if yourself, or Sammi (below), experienced a partner or loved one gradually rotting away from terminal cancer, you would of course be as perfectly detached and rational in examining life while you were grieving over the event?
Responses to threads like this are why I always eventually regret being a frequent reader of hacker news. These comments can only come from people who have never experienced this kind of loss and think its appropriate to rationalise away the emotion of the event; or who are genuinely blunted enough emotionally that you cannot empathise with someone and appreciate why these replies aren't considerate or even remotely civil.
I refuse to believe that someone could experience this kind of loss and still genuinely hold the point of view that challenging grievers as to the correctness of their world view is a constructive or compassionate thing to do.
Of course death is a part of life. It doesn't mean it should be trivialised. It is one of the most significant events that will occur in your life, and grief absolutely shapes the way someone perceives the world while they recover from it.
Yes, "Life fucking sucks" is a statement that doesn't take into account the whole scope of life at that point in time, but I would estimate that from the grievers perspective it is a very accurate summary of how things feel.
Every time I see a topic on here relating to something other than technology or money I cringe before opening the comments section, because while a minority of participants, it is almost guaranteed that someone will be trying to rationalise away the significance of death, gender issues, class imbalance etc. It really wouldn't hurt some people here to step away from their collection of technical domains and deal with some people outside of their bubble once in a while.
I've got no grandparent's left, having lived through watching/caring for several of them go through protracted dementia/alzheimers with my mother and our family as carers and the associated joys of that.
My cousin killed himself a year or two ago. My mother got a cancer diagnosis last year.
I'm not trying to rack up a body count, or post that to measure my e-penis, but it might stop you and other's like you dismissing this out of hand.
I think that guy up there you're responding to is spot on.
Death is part of life. My parents, and my wife's parents, are probably going to waste away, and probably get mistreated in a nursing home/hospital just like my grandparents were shuffled off and hidden from the living because we're all (i.e. our entire society) so chicken-shit scared of talking about this or dealing with it like adults. Instead we prod it with kiddy-gloves and pretend it doesn't happen.
Truthfully, i find your response more insulting and condescending than the person you're responding to. I don't mean that as a flame, its how i feel. I don't think your post should be downvoted. Its a valid perspective that you're obviously sincere about.
But one that needs to be taken with a counteragent like myself to point out that you're just telling us all there's one way we're all supposed to feel about and treat grief, that its your way, and the rest of us are wrong.
Then I missed the intent of my post a bit - I'm not calling out the coping style, I'm trying to address the lack of empathy in the response to the Op. The guy is clearly grieving and depressed over what has happened, it's not a hard thing to interpret, so why address him as if he's failing to understand the logic in the situation? This isn't a technical topic, I'd like to think there's a capacity to switch gears and actually deal with people in a more complex way than "death happens, this is sensible, get used to it"
I don't consider your response a flame - I've just worked with people who are in grief and shock before and would never consider responding with my own beliefs on the topic if I thought it would injure them during the initial stages of grieving. Yes, in the mainstream we don't acknowledge it, and in the west we get people out of sight so they can die without us dealing with it, but it doesn't mean people just pretend it away when it happens to them. Some people just choose to deal with the topic indirectly when talking in public forums or with people outside of the family but I've certainly known the majority of people I've worked with to be very direct about the topic when they feel like they are in the right situation to do so.
Again, it's perfectly fine to have your own coping style but when you're engaging with someone else on a subject like death there has to be some measure of empathy towards their situation. They are not you, they have different processes and philosophies towards these events, it's not just a case of standing there and shouting your ideas at them until they "understand".
Why is it that posts about someone else lacking empathy always themselves lack empathy?
If someone ranted at you, telling you that you are a bad person and unable to relate to others, like you just did in these two posts, how would you feel?
You insist they couldn't possibly have lost anyone close to them, but of course you don't know that. You're merely imposing your style of coping on them. What if they have lost someone? Go back and re-read your post telling them they're coping with it all wrong.
I would understand that something about how I'm communicating to other people might not be working as well as I think it is, at least with the person making the rant.
What I insisted was dramatised but the issue that I'm taking here stays the same - everyone is entitled to their own coping style, but the way you communicate to others has to take them into consideration.
Yes, I've done a very poor job at demonstrating that, I'm a bit outraged but not professing that I'm much better at any of this myself, but I want the point explored - where's the line, even online? Where do we stop ourselves short in terms of how we handle someone else's situation when there is a desire to shout "shit happens" at them from behind a screen?
Again, I've probably done this here. I've got a virginal, unused account and I'm anonymous and all of the usual factors relating to this kind of screwed online communication, but it just feels like a common theme in the responses here. Logic works! Logic works in programming so logic works in people! This person isn't being logical, the colour is outside the lines, quickly, correctness!
Seriously, HN taught me everything I know about a lot of the technology that I earn a living from but it's starting to feel less and less appropriate to make reference to around company that is over 25 and has more life experience than grinding in a SV startup. Yes, jump all over this statement, tear it to bits, ask me to reflect, etc. I'm speaking just in my own case, as someone who volunteers to come and read this, but it's definitely at a point where even though it's a vocal minority of very strange responses, it's an accepted minority that reflects on the rest of the community.
The parent comment isn't saying that death isn't a part of life. He's saying that it was pretty rude to say that in the context of the grandparent's comment. He's not telling you, or anyone else, how to feel. He's trying to tell you that sometimes you should look at the social context you're in, and not say the wrong damn thing. Ironically, he failed while chastising someone else who deserved it.
But all of life does suck. It's also all beautiful, and amazing, and completely meaningless, yet full of meaning. To me it's all a big joke. Nothing makes sense.
Basically, yeah, it's more complicated than what I expressed in my comment. I used some poetic license.
> But all of life does suck. It's also all beautiful, and amazing, and completely meaningless, yet full of meaning. To me it's all a big joke. Nothing makes sense.
That's something I can get behind! Good look processing your loss.
>I'm really sorry about about the death of you're mother. Death however, is part of life. People die, and people close to you will continue to die at an increasing rate until it is finally your turn.
That's a pretty lousy thing to say, considering his mother died of cancer rather than old age.
I don't know the details of his mothers' passing. Regardless, cancer and old age are not mutually exclusive, and whatever the case here, the statement I made still applies. Death by illness or by car accidents is as much part of life today as is death by old age. In fact, very few people die of old age alone.
I don't understand you. I mean, until medicine becomes perfect, then is sickness an any more unreasonable cause of death than old age? Perfect medicine would also cure death from old age, right?
My father died of pancreatic cancer and it was a rough seven month from the time he was diagnosed till he succumbed and a difficult time afterwards. I sympathize with your numbness and lack of explanation.
The only answers that experience left me with are:
1) Life is fleeting and I want to jealously take advantage of every day with my loved ones.
2) Were life not so fragile, we would not appreciate it like we should.
> What's the point of explaining what I'm going through to anyone? What can they do?
I'm a little late to this party, but this is really important: it's not about having the other person "do" something that will magically make you feel better. It is the act of explaining how you feel that is in and of itself therapeutic. I know it doesn't make any sense, but it's true. It has to do with how we are wired to be social creatures. The act of talking to a fellow human being and having them listen is woven deeply into our psyches. That's one of the reasons that the internet is so addictive. But it is also helpful to have an actual living, breathing human being doing the listening instead of some abstract entity on the other end of a TCP connection. So go find someone -- anyone -- and tell them how you feel. Trust me, it will help.
Thanks to a curious Google search four days ago, I just found the obituary for my father, who died after a long battle with cancer ... three years ago. Didn't specify which kind.
I never really knew him: all added up, I spent maybe two or three weeks of time with him. Almost all of which were from me calling him and asking if I could visit. So many times he'd say he had plans or just not show up. I just got tired of always reaching out to him, so I decided I'd leave it to him if he wanted to reach out back. Haven't seen him or spoken to him in fifteen years. Maybe I should have kept trying, but at some point you just take the hint that you're not cared about.
I never thought I would be saddened by his eventual death, and indeed, no tears were shed. But when I stop and think about it, there's this ... feeling like your stomach is being dropped. You can logically consider the finality of death, but it really is quite different when it's actually real. Just knowing that now, you can never, ever change things.
He didn't die of a heart attack or in a car accident: he clearly knew he was going to die for some time. As callous as that man was to me, I never thought he'd be so selfish as to not reach out in his last days. If not for his sake, then at least for mine, for a chance to say goodbye. Perhaps I can kid myself and say he was too ashamed, but I know deep down that he just didn't care.
There was always this hope that one day he'd feel some inkling of regret and we could reconcile, at least as much as one could with a father who wasn't there. But now that he's dead, there's no longer any sliver of chance. He will now always be a selfish man.
I find myself angry that I am angry about his passing. It makes me feel awful that I can't even grieve at the loss of a parent like a normal human being would.
But maybe this is better than the pain the author of this story went through: watching someone you truly love deteriorate and pass right before your eyes.
One day I am going to find out the same thing about mine. He almost died a few years ago, so I contacted him on facebook, to see if it was something genetic I should be worried about. It was necrotizing fasciitis, so no worries.
A dead parent is a loss that happens once, but a parent that rejects you happens constantly, every single moment of your shared lifetime. The consistency of the selfishness is what gets you. No matter how often you forget about it, one day it is there again. This birthday was ignored too.
I grew up envying the ones whose parents had died. More recently, I've met people with abusive parents. So, we sit around middle ground.
Not exactly HN stuff, but it was nice to read your comment from the perspective of a fellow tech in a similar situation.
Perhaps the thought of trying to become a good/better dad when it's your turn might help reduce the anger? I don't know you (or how old you are) but thinking how you would bring up your kid (if that is what you'd like some day) could help you right now. I had a talk once with a friend in the same situation and he found even just saving some money for his future kid made him feel like he was already being a good father. Just a thought...
Your Dad let you down so badly, I feel for you. It seems like he didn't spend enough time with you to bond, I'm sure there were so many other issues in his head that you will never know about.
You did well to keep trying as you did, it's understandable you gave up in the end. The pain you feel is a testament to your heart and soul, I expect it will fade but never quite disappear.
I've been through a similar situation. An important part of the grief was to accept that my father would never be the one he was supposed to be. He would never fill the role I expected.
"It is often argued that life-threatening illness imbues its victims with a new vigor for life. I’ve always found this notion sort of idiotic..."
In recent years, I've spent a lot of time working with late stage cancer patients as part of my job.
When I first started, several friends speculated that it might give me a deeper appreciation for my own health, and "imbue me with a new vigor for life"
Perversely, similar to the author, I've found the opposite to be true - it can be difficult for me to shake the knowledge that this is a fate that most of us will face (if not directly, on behalf of a loved one) if we're lucky enough not to die of something else first.
I don't have any insight to share on what to do about it - I'm still wrestling with the issue. Just wanted to say thank you for posting the story.
> When I first started, several friends speculated that it might give me a deeper appreciation for my own health, and "imbue me with a new vigor for life"
Yeah, this is basically, "When you think stories actually reflect real life accurately".
The deeper appreciation and vigor for life thing does happen. It's just sort of over-represented because it does double duty as a pretty good plot device.
There's nothing wrong with you if it doesn't happen to you, just as there's nothing particularly wrong with the hundreds of faceless medical staff busily and competently doing their jobs at the hospital where the ER drama is taking place.
I dunno. I wonder if the whole "new vigor for life" thing isn't actually just a personality trait coming out.
For instance, I think I'll probably respond that way when someone in my family dies. However, I think that because I already know that when Memorial Day and Holocaust Remembrance Day come around each year (and Memorial Day was two days ago, so this is sort of fresh), I don't have any impulse to cry and mourn, but instead to go find Nazis and/or terrorists and/or the Grim Reaper and beat the crap out of them.
There might just be some of us who respond to death with an impulse to, well, fight it.
EDIT: I'm referring to Israeli Memorial Day, which was in fact two days ago.
I came here to say thank you for posting as well. You are so right: "this is a fate that most of us will face (if not directly, on behalf of a loved one)". If you'd care to read a bit more I highly recommend this controversial book based up on a true story: 'Love Life' http://www.amazon.com/Love-Life-Ray-Kluun/dp/B003IWYKD0 Edit: A film was made as well, called 'STRICKEN'.
As human beings, we learn by observing the fates of other human beings.
When we encounter a fate that is easily recognized, and assuredly an unenviable fate, there is no ambient curiosity gifted to us by our ignorance. We've seen this movie before, and we know how it ends.
The normal psychological response to this sort of thing most certainly is not: wash. rinse. repeat.
You can't spend too much time on the frontlines in a pitched battle like cancer, and find yourself filled with a burning desire to experience the struggle first-hand. Jack Kevorkian's form of therapy isn't the greatest idea ever conceived, but for special circumstances, it might sometimes apply. One critical detail of supreme importance, to keep in mind: As a permanent decision, it should never be applied to temporary circumstances.
Within the specific context of this anecdote, and the benefit of the author's recall serving us as hindsight, I think, the moment when he noticed the sclera icterus was late in the game, but a conscionable moment for non-theraputic intervention. Arguably, she had already passed her own threshold moment, when she started eating oxies like candy, and wryly deflating strangers attitudes with a malign gallows humor about the fact that her apparent pregnancy was actually a side-effect of terminal liver failure.
After reading an article or story like this, I always end up hating myself.
I'm a smart guy, like many of us here, and 10-some years ago I made the decision that money was the most important thing to me. So now I, like many of us here, run a company where we make large sums of money making people click little ads, doing stupid stuff in little applications.
Where I could have been spending my smarts on something, anything, useful like medical research.
More and more I feel like I should just sell it all, hire some young smart kids and try again.
I did the opposite decision 9 years ago - I started a PhD on cancer detection out of pure idealism, completely ignoring money as useless. Later I realized that I need large sums of money to pursue the grand dreams I had, hence I started multiple e-commerce companies (that can be almost automated) to get the necessary cashflow for independent research on what I deem important (cancer, multiplex sclerosis etc.). You are already in the position of being able to fund things that matter - now it might be a good opportunity to seek people that can help you getting your dreams of a better world come true.
I know a few people that founded successful businesses and later they removed themselves from most of the duties except for ownership and started to pursue their visions, such as prolonging human life, organ replacement etc.
It's _NEVER_ too late to start living your dream, be the best you can be, give the best you can give. Whatever you did before doesn't matter. Life is lived forwardly not in reverse. Sorry for the platitudes. People like Alan Watts can say it better and in more depth than me: https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=alan+watts
Why am I alive? What am I here to do? These are important questions, and everyone needs to answer them for themselves. We are of the universe, and we are witnesses to the universe. We are the method by which the universe can reflect upon itself.
Honestly, unless you have expensive hobbies you are passionate about, if you have enough money then you should shift your focus away from money and more towards finding happiness in your life.
There's nothing wrong with making lots of money, if you're also happy with what you're doing. But if you think you'd be happier doing something more worthwhile, then go for it. It doesn't have to be medical research. You could work on developing tools that support scientific development - things like programming tools or machine learning technology. You can still make a lot of money in those areas. You don't even have to focus on science, there is intrinsic value in politics, art, culture, education, communication, etc. Or sell everything, keep as much as you need to set yourself up doing something you enjoy and give the rest to cancer research.
Whatever you want to do, just making money for its own sake doesn't make any sense from a pragmatic point of view.
Once you've ensured a stable modest lifestyle, extra money does not really increase your ability to enjoy life significantly. I am not very rich, but I have learned to cook, and I cook to my own tastes. So I get really great food every day.
Alcohol is pretty cheap if that's your pleasure. Drugs less so - but spending a lot of money on drugs is bad for you in the long term.
Having money helps attract sexual interest, but confidence and social skills work just as well. Money only helps get more frequent lower quality sex. High quality comes through deep mutual understanding and accommodation with you partner. You're way better off spending time investing in personal development so you can learn to build good quality relationships.
The one thing money can reliably buy you is status. It's very easy to cling to the notion that status has significant intrinsic value, but it doesn't. Status doesn't help you make friends or find love or solve your emotional problems or be happier. You might think having low status will make people ignore you or look down on you, but if you're confident, if you believe in yourself as a smart guy, that will never happen. True self-belief renders status obsolete.
Money based status is ultimately just a social competition that some people care about and some people don't. It's a shared obsession that means about as much as any other shared obsession. Your bank balance is like a high score on World of Warcraft. To some people it's the most important thing to them. But, to those on the outside, it's obvious that the obsession is unhealthy and adds little to the obsessed one's life.
I think this every day. I even bailed on a job to do a foundation degree in medicine but finances and circumstances killed that dead.
However its probably better if someone takes a pile of money from society through a business and dedicates all profit to research. Look at Gates for example. If you are qualified in the subject you're likely to be a health service or corporate drug peddler at best. If you can generate clear revenue you can hire these people and focus on something.
I want to study the use of AI in determining genetic factors to disease and the neuro-degenerative ailments that the worlds increasingly older populations are facing "but finances and circumstances killed that dead".
It's really frustrating and demoralizing that education in particular is so badly structured (in my experience). For instance: while I was getting kicked off my Cog-Sci Masters course for owing £300 a colleague was receiving a fully funded PhD position to study _Harry Potter Fan Fiction Porn_. That was a kick in the teeth.
You just got to keep at it I guess, don't let the knocks stop you realising your potential and refine your plans to the point where they are laser sharp. I think it's this kind of attitude that separates entrepreneurs from the crowd.
That just sucks. Based on your usage of £ I assume you are in the UK (I am too).
Education here is a broken pile of crap. Politics and ridiculous rules and structure galore.
For example: I did electrical engineering and nearly got kicked off my course for daring to drop an email politely asking a user telnetted into the box I was working on, to stop trying to brute force su to root on my Sun workstation which was dumping logs onto the frame buffer console and screwing up my Cadence session. They were trying to crack root and I complained and ended up with a disciplinary for breaking the communication AUP.
The fucked up bit: The attacker actually complained that I'd caught him to his tutor who kicked off the whole disciplinary process against me.
So I learned how political it is and yes you're right there were people studying crap like that at PhD level in my department. Some guy was working on electrically stimulated sex aids on my tuition fees...
I once heard one of the top generals talking on the radio about the state of the MoD and he was saying that the basic career path was to suck up a decade or two of dirt before finding a desk job so obscure you can hide away for the next three or four decades and earn a pretty pension. I've always found it intriguing how well this seems to parallel academia.
Where are you based?
Get in touch if you fancy chatting some time (email in profile), I find it helps to vent spleen sometimes ;)
But your company is paying taxes and employing people so they can put their kids through college, pay taxes themselves etc. Not everybody can be researchers. You're doing something valuable.
> I could have been spending my smarts on something, anything, useful like medical research
Whenever our short lives are maintained to be the end-goal we will only reach meaninglessness or delusion. Despite the likelihood of inviting downvotes, I must say that an investment in eternal wealth is the way to go. I'm referring to coming to faith in God. [Matthew 11:28]
The really nasty question is how one can actually make an impact on something truly useful like medical research. It's not nearly as easy to figure out where our efforts have the most effect in medicine (or any form of science, really) as in ad-clicks.
pivot your company/tech into clinical trial recruiting/enrollment. According to Tufts university (too lazy to find the link)80% or so of all clinical trials for new drugs are under enrolled: not enough patients to get the data. This delays approvals of new life saving products, and also inflates costs exponentially. Use your app/ad/site and parlay that into getting people matched up with clinical trials or something! edit: you can also create apps that help clinical trials collect data from patients easily, such as a pain survey app and the data they enter goes right to the investigators, and also to the CRO and sponsor
Sorry, I don't know why you were down-voted. The loss of a loved one, no matter who or what that is, is always difficult.
The article is very moving and I can't imagine how difficult it is to watch a loved one go through such suffering.
And your story is a nice tribute to a faithful, loving being. It reminded me of my own friends from a while ago in my life. It's good to know your dog was loved. Good luck with the future.
morons who downvoted you are probably just very poor souls who have missed in their lives on the great happiness of having non-human members of family. I sorry for them and sorry for you loss.
A lady I knew only through playing a game (which is an app of sorts) put a lot of effort into said game and became the lynchpin of the community. She passed on due to the c-word that we don't speak of. We were collectively devastated, some of my other online friends stopped playing for a week or two and things were not the same afterwards. Her daughter had the good sense to log on to the phone and tell us what had happened, we were kept from the truth until then.
I was deeply shocked by the turn of events, much like how, on the internet 'nobody knows you are a dog', nobody knows you are dying of c-word on some hospital ward. But we didn't need to know that, in-game conversation was light hearted banter, no special treatment, which was good. From that hospital ward that lady had a good fifty to a hundred 'in game' friends all around the world, we were there, outside of visiting hours, 24/7.
I think I was more shocked and with more grief layers to go through than I have experienced when some of my relatives have passed on. You would wonder how you could be so upset about losing someone that you only spent six months of your life compulsively playing an online game with. But it can happen.
So, +1 to your original point. Games and apps or fancy shopping websites might seem trivial when there are so many problems in the world, however, through such things community can exist. People in those communities treat others as normal, they stay on topic and people that are seriously ill really appreciate it.
I am at a loss for meaningful kind words for your mom. 'I hope she gets...' - after that I am stuck. However, if she doesn't play online games, get her to do so, and to make friends with a community of people that don't care about how ill she is.
There was a day when we sent men into space just for the challenge. I don't think that merely doing a lot of difficult and complex medical research is beyond our power.
You're right. It's very important, more so than putting a human on Mars.
What I meant is that cancer is far more than just one thing to cure. I have a friend who's a cancer researcher working with immunotherapy, one of the more promising new directions for cancer research. And yet, even if we can cure, say, leukemia with it, there's still other cancers that may or may not be curable in the same way.
Still, it is a hope that one day we'll have a cure for all the varied types of cancer. It's still not going to be easy.
I get you, but I still think that even scientific research is largely a matter of committing the societal effort rather than of some Mysterious Power of Science -- which is how people seem to act about cancer research. And it's quite frustrating to me, because I hear lots of people say things like, "Why should we fund cancer research? Cancer is a thousand different incurable little things that always get you eventually. Disease and death will always be a part of old age, so why are we throwing public money down the drain?"
You know, like they already do with fusion research, and most other forms of clean-energy development. Then, a decade after they said that sort of thing, someone ends up in another stupid war for control of fossil-fuels, and on net, tens of thousands of people die painfully and pointlessly because a few despairniks found it more convenient to claim science doesn't work than to spend even a little effort on actually doing some good for the world.
I'm currently reading "The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer" by Siddhartha Mukherjee. It's an amazing book, and I'm learning a lot. I think you would, too.
He talks at length on the societal efforts to "cure cancer", and how those came about. I think you're under the impression that we don't spend much money or effort on cancer research, but we do. We spend a lot of both. I suppose we can debate if it's "enough." It is, however, a ridiculously hard problem. There needed to be, and still need to be, fundamental scientific breakthroughs in order for treatments to progress.
Anyway, I'm not so much trying to counter what you've said. Rather, I want to point you to a book that I think covers topics that you are clearly interested in.
Wouldn’t seeing that world while not being able to live in it rather depressing? And while I have to agree that medical research is important, there is not just medical research which is underfunded. The things we could end up with when providing more funding for even completely theoretical physics (say, String Theory) are thoroughly amazing.
On the other hand, there is a lot of hit-or-miss in these areas, probably not quite dissimilar to how funding for startups works: 95% of all projects/ideas will fail within the first few weeks/months and not provide any useful results whereas the last 5% make up for thousands of years (quite literally) of research and suffering.
This was a great story, and I'm glad I was able to read it. My father, a hero of mine and one of my best friends, passed away due to cancer at the end of 2012. My mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer the following spring. For over 3 years, I've been accompanying them to weekly or bi-monthly visits to the oncologist and for treatments.
Being the personal representative and power of attorney for advance directive for each has put me in very similar situations, like this story shares, where the doctor was blunt with me but my parent was semi-oblivious. Although there is very little to be thankful about regarding cancer, the perspective I've gained from my experience helps me to make better decisions in my life.
Making my little son laugh and generally enjoy himself is the best part of my day. I make sure my wife knows how much I love and appreciate her. I may not have prioritized those actions enough without the perspective I've gained.
Synthetic genomics seems to be a very promising approach to reaching a cure, or at least more effective treatment. Hopefully we'll get there soon and prevent as much suffering as possible.
Like most commenters, I found this story both tragic and mesmerizing. But while much of the discussion has centered around cancer, I think this is a specific instance of a more general problem. Whether it's heart disease at 50 or Alzheimer's at 90, almost all of us will experience the gradual failure of our bodies and minds. With the exception of those killed by violence or accident, we can look forward to decades of decline, followed by a humiliating, terrifying, and excruciating end. The most debauched psychopath would not dream of subjecting their victims to such an experience. It is no wonder that most of us live as if such a time will never come.
But it will. Don't forget that. Just as one plans for retirement, so too should one plan for death.
To get an idea of the ailments of old age, I recommend reading Who by Very Slow Decay[1]. The author is a resident physician.
That was so well written and so sad, I literally started crying at the end of it. Goddamn, it's a reminder to live it up while we still have our health.
I am a new doctor in my fourth week of a 3 month oncology term. My region doesn't have a hospice so most of our patients are palliative, and the only ones I interact with have all been given death sentences.
It terrified me for my first 2 weeks- being surrounded by patients with metastatic cancer and you begin to see it in everyone, walking down the street or doing the shopping, in the faces of everyone you meet.
But now I have become more accustomed to that.
So the worst now is dealing with the patients that are young. When the patient is 80+, you can at least feel happy that they have lived a lifetimes worth of potential. But when they have kids the same age as me, I see a parent with weddings and births of grandchildren ahead, and I hate it.
Just this afternoon - not more than 2 hours ago- I had to place a catheter for a 53 yr old patient that has a very small tumour burden, but it is in his liver obscuring his biliary drainage and now he is dying of live failure. His wife is understandably a wreck but his stoicism is almost more terrifying... Today he asked repeatedly 'why is it taking so long?'
At the same time we have an 86 year old woman with metastatic lung cancer who has been living with her disease for 8 years and will go home later this week, likely to live another 6-12 months. She may even outlive her oncologist, who was diagnosed with renal carcinoma 3 months ago and has been treating her for 8 years.
The randomness of it is perhaps the most shocking.. And all the while you must contend with the knowledge that i have a 1 in 3 chance of going through cancer myself.
Illness is horrible and unfortunately prevention is still much more successful than treatment.
If it would ever happen to me, I'd prefer ending it myself when I reach the end of the line. Just a few weeks ago a local elder couple did the same thing here. I do understand it's easy for me to say as I at least have a choice to end it with the assistance of doctors.
It is really time that we had a grown up and actionable conversation on euthanasia. We can at least strive to give people two things (i) dignity and (ii) no pain. Is that a lot I am asking for.
Well written article. Reminds us to live life like there's no tomorrow, love your loved ones like they'll be gone the next minute. Will be holding my wife closer and tighter tonight.
"When I asked them when the right time was to tell someone that death is unavoidable, they most often told me that the moment occurs after several successive attempts at stopping the cancer have failed. Only then, when the patient is cornered by cancer, that’s the time."
I wonder if that's a US thing? I'm based in the UK and have been unfortunate enough to have a bunch of friends and family die of different cancers over the last ten years. In all but one case they were told almost as soon as they had a diagnosis. In the one case that wasn't the second consultant that did tell us was quite visibly cross that the first consultant hadn't done the job.
In my experience, the "lying" was not directly that, nor was it even omission. It was simply providing small, though often false, hopes very similar to what her oncologist did toward the end of the story telling her to hold off on chemo for one more day. It's a delicate balance the oncologists must deal with as depression is a very real issue, and sometimes their goal is quality of life until the end.
I can sympathize with a doctor who's told the whole truth, then seen people spiral off into depression, or get a divorce, or run off to Buenos Aires and join a maraca band. Its hard to watch patients do things the doctor may think are sad or wrong or disruptive.
If they were a life coach, or a minister, or a spouse, then sure they should be managing hope, keeping the patient positive, working to keep the family functioning.
But they're not any of those things. Its not their responsibility nor right to decide how a patient should react, or to manipulate the patient to get a reaction they approve of. Its their responsibility to diagnose, treat and inform. Anything else is hubris.
If I'm going to die soon, its my right to make a crappy decision to run off with a prostitute and get blind drunk. Or stay with my family in hospice and pray. Or whatever. My right. No one elses.
This is not really the doctors choice to make. I guess if the patient does not request the full truth then there might be some justification for lying if they think it will help the patient, but if a patient asks direct to be told everything then they should be told. I certainly want to be told the full truth at all times even if it is bad news.
I agree that the doctor should be honest and clear about the diagnosis. The treatment options, their potential effectiveness, and the rate of decline due to the illness varies enough that it's very difficult for the doctor to offer more than percentages and statistics rather than the definitive answers most patients desire.
I wish I could get percentages or statistics out of the doctors I have had to deal with. Whenever I have asked direct questions I get handwaving and I am spoken to like I am an idiot.
I was at a talk last week where a politician (local school board guy) explained his engagement with the public thusly: We're trustees. We tell you what needs to be done; we tell you how much money it's going to take; we let you make the decision.
It feels exactly like how the doctor went about explaining their options. And I like it.
Unfortunately this is not how most politicians operate.
Doctors are not gods. They are experts we consult for advice on the best way to solve a problem. If I ask an architect how I should go about building a house I expect to be told the truth - I don't want to find out halfway through a build that the idea I suggested means the house will now cost three time more than the available budget. Sometime there are no good solutions (like in the story), but even in this case the patient should be told the truth if they want to know it.
I was thinking this, too. It's hard to say for sure what I'd want in that situation but I think sincerity helps because eventually when good news comes it makes it much more believable than coming from somebody who never gives you bad news.
There are no words to express the difficulty in the loss of a loved one due to cancer.
My father is battling cancer, and my mother is trying her best to fight off her emotions to deal with it. I try my best to just suppress the thoughts altogether, ignoring it and lying to myself that my father is OK. There really is no way to deal with this issue, and it's unfortunate.
This just made me cry on busy London commuter train. Cathartic but awkward. An incredibly moving story that has reminded me to tell the people that matter to me that they matter to me.
Our life together was gone, and carrying on without her
was exactly that, without her. I was reminded of our friend
Liz’s insight after she lost her husband to melanoma. She
told me she had plenty of people to do things with, but
nobody to do nothing with.
A hard hitting article. I hope I never have to go through that with my partner, as the patient, nor the one left behind.
I find it so sad that a medical breakthrough against cancer still seems so utterly distant.
The pessimist in me fears that a cure for cancer is so remote because our capitalist society does not value finding a cure, rather treating it's woes as a vastly more profitable business.
The optimist in me thinks that there are some scientists out there working for big pharma who value a reduction in suffering over profits.
Don't believe the standard trope that pharma prefers treatments vs. cures. I worked in oncology R&D in big pharma. Every single person there from management on down sincerely believed the drug candidates they were identifying and working on might be cures one day. The oncology drug development process in a strange way mirrors the experience cancer patients themselves (and I speak from experience-- lost my dad to pancreatic cancer when I was just starting out). You have these really good days, where you have data that says you might be on to something. That things are looking up. Maybe this time it will be different! One in a million chance! And you have those bad days, where it all seems to be falling apart. All the while through the ups and downs you know in the back of your mind that inevitably (well something like 98% of the time anyway), the data from the first clinical trials will come back, and the drug you thought was going to change the world isn't any better than anything else. Maybe if you get really lucky, the drug adds 3 months to patients' lives so it's not a total failure.
So you pick yourself up after 5 - 8 years of work, and start all over at the beginning in the hopes that this time will be different. That is the reality of cancer drug development in a pharmaceutical company. There is no smoke-filled room where the managers say, "oh no, we can't pursue that it might cure people!". Even if people were so warped as to think that way, you can comfort yourself in knowing that biologists are so ignorant of the basics of cancer, they wouldn't know how to distinguish a cure for a mere treatment if they wanted.
The reality is that cancer is biologically complex and ferociously difficult to cure. People seem to often use the "war" analogy (as in "the war on cancer"). If it's a war, we're still using pointed sticks and rocks and cancer has intercontinental ballistic missiles, special forces, and fighter jets. Every once in a while, someone stumbles onto a stronger piece of wood or a heavier rock.
> "Doctors claim that patients aren’t ready for the bad news earlier, when they are still digesting their shocking predicament: that their lives have changed irretrievably; that their priorities, their future aspirations, their promises to their loved ones—both the explicit and, more important, the implicit ones—would go unfulfilled. They cite their own hesitations too. Doctors want to be purveyors of hope rather than despair, a motive sometimes attributed to compassion, sometimes to a starker concern that patients will find a new, more optimistic second opinion. "
This is absolute nonsense. Any person with basic maturity/intelligence would long have understood that any of us could die in any split second, and that the essence of the world is randomness and senselessness. Just accept this fact, relax and "don't care". I don't care on what day I die. What I care is if I have lived every day of my life to the fullest possible, and when I come to die I will not find that I haven’t lived. If I fulfill this, then even if I somehow suddenly face death tomorrow, I would be serene and happy to embrace it. On the contrary, if I could live for 1000 years but with every day wasted, I would be mad and I'd better take an Euthanasia. Here Ruth and her husband had the right attitude for life and they're totally worthy of applauds. There’s no point in doing a prolonged, painful, senseless and sure-to-be-defeated battle for just a few years of life. We all will die. What’s important is live every day to the best possible with determination, and accept with serenity what our current limitations can’t reach.
"Doctors claim that patients aren’t ready for the bad news earlier, when they are still digesting their shocking predicament: that their lives have changed irretrievably; that their priorities, their future aspirations, their promises to their loved ones—both the explicit and, more important, the implicit ones—would go unfulfilled. They cite their own hesitations too. Doctors want to be purveyors of hope rather than despair, a motive sometimes attributed to compassion, sometimes to a starker concern that patients will find a new, more optimistic second opinion."
This is something that hits home very deeply. My father just passed away from Melanoma. When we first learned the news our oncologist was very hopeful that we could treat the disease but later we met with a specialist in the area and he was very blunt about my fathers future death. I felt as if the oncologist lied to us. She didn't give us the whole story on how severe the cancer was. Maybe if she did we would of been more proactive to treating it.
I can't imagine what can go through a doctors mind when they see the scans and try to explain that to their patients day after day. How do you decide what is the best way, should you be blunt? or should you give the patient hope? Too many difficult decisions for one person to make.
"... followed by a humiliating, terrifying, and excruciating end."
This is why it's so important that we discuss voluntary euthanasia as a society. The thing is, people prefer not to think of it. Everyone acts like they're immortal.
I would much prefer to choose my own time of passing, preferably quite a way from the end that you describe.
"The most debauched psychopath would not dream of subjecting their victims to such an experience."
And yet, that is the experience that the law mandates we have.
My grandfather, now 91 years old, told me in January that everything is always there. Everything you'll ever fear, celebrate, mourn, and laugh about is in front of you throughout your life. The only thing that makes one moment distinguishable from the next is what part we're focusing on.
My mom had breast cancer. She is alive today but this story made me think about her and her battle, and how lucky I am to still have her with me. This really was beautifully written.
I've watched my loved ones die. I have yet to see any of my dearest die. I know that will happen. I don't know if it's better to understand the slow spiral vs. carrying false hope to the edge of the cliff. We still end up crushed at the bottom.
Because my ex-wife of 21 years and the mother of my 3 children is quickly being taken away by cancer. I am a man of science and I recognized much of what was going down, and she wanted to know it all, every detail, she doesn't want us to hide a thing. It's horrifying to share such things with a woman I have loved for 30 years. But she trusts me not to lie to her, she wants to know so she can prepare. One of her sisters works in a breast cancer clinic and knows how this goes all too well. We've all tried hard to help her but the reality is that at some point it's just too late. I feel for the caretakers who deal with this on daily basis, I can barely handle one case I can’t imagine dealing with it daily and thousands of cases.
I have dealt with death in many forms, from instant "Oh by the way this person passed today" and over time. They all suck, but if you're lucky dealing with death over time can be a bittersweet gift for everyone involved. You have time to share and say goodbye and talk about things we all forget to say to each other each day. My children are devastated but again, none of us know when we'll go, a taxi driver could hit me while I’m walking to work tomorrow. The challenge is the balance, we each want and need to believe we live a life that includes tomorrow and these patients are told the number of tomorrows are much smaller then each of us assumes when we get up in the morning. It's the dichotomy of life, without death life means nothing, but with death comes so much grief, pain and sorrow.
This story touches me because I too understand what's ahead and as it has unfolded I want to hate myself for being right. There is the science of what is happening and the real human tragedy of it all.
This seems like a very strange article to run across on Hacker News and to be 100% honest I was here trying hard to avoid thinking about what is unfolding in my family’s life. All I can say is thank you to the poster for pointing this article out. I think there is an interesting juxtaposition between the knowledge every Hacker wants to know and how you can’t unlearn once you have learned something. Imagine the horror of understanding all the technical details of what’s happening to your loved one while being totally helpless to do anything about it. Some say that ignorance is bliss, and maybe it is for some people. I think the big question is do you want to know? Or do you choose ignorance? For me, knowing and understanding has always been a blessing with a certain weight that I am willing to carry, even if it means understanding how someone I’ve loved for 30 years is slowly dying. At least when she’s gone I will not have to guess what happened…
Very touching. It must take courage to resist treatment, even if you know you're going to die anyway. I hope I never have to decide, but I ever am in her shoes, I hope I'm brave enough to spend any time left with my family and saying goodbyes.
" What Dr. McKinley wanted was time with her husband, a radiologist, and their two college-age children, and another summer to soak her feet in the Atlantic Ocean. But most of all, she wanted “a little more time being me and not being somebody else.” So, she turned down more treatment and began hospice care, the point at which the medical fight to extend life gives way to creating the best quality of life for the time that is left.
Dr. Robert Gilkeson, Dr. McKinley’s husband, remembers his mother-in-law, Alice McKinley, being unable to comprehend her daughter’s decision. “ ‘Isn’t there some treatment we could do here?’ she pleaded with me,” he recalled. “I almost had to bite my tongue, so I didn’t say, ‘Do you have any idea how much disease your daughter has?’ ” Dr. McKinley and her husband were looking at her disease as doctors, who know the limits of medicine; her mother was looking at her daughter’s cancer as a mother, clinging to the promise of medicine as "
Because there isn't enough of emergent conspiracy with our current medical system, lets try to get the loved ones in on it too. We can all lie and doctors can use this new found flexibility to finally bring down the cost of healthcare.
What a beautiful story. I come here to Hacker News to get tech related aggregated content. The kind of thing that you don't go out looking for but still say "Ooh, that's interesting". I really don't want to relive my experiences with cancer here. Why on earth did someone think this is hacker news worthy content?
Relevant content to Hacker News is "Anything that satisfies a person's intellectual curiosity." It's not just about technology, it's about interesting things. Which, I think, is what makes HN as valuable as it is.
On an unrelated note, your username means "is whining/complaining" in my native language (Slovenian) and I found that interesting given the context.
> "is whining/complaining" in my native language (Slovenian)
It's jammern in German, jamre in Norwegian and Danish, and jämra in Swedish. The Scandinavian versions and modern German all comes from Middle Low German. I'm guessing you got the word from German at some point too, as the German version originated from a version without the leading "j".
I agree, but a mechanical explanation is that there a lot more people on HN then before and a lot less technical people. 20 up-votes would be 2 in the before time.
All the grief, anger, and beyond that, the feeling that any emotion I have is absolutely useless. I search for an explanation, all the while my brain is telling me that I'm stupid for even looking. What's the point of explaining what I'm going through to anyone? What can they do?
I don't really know what my point is. I'd be tempted to just say "life sucks", but I'd rather not be unreasonably pessimistic.
But then again, my mom just died.
Life. Fucking. Sucks.