Accepting Possible Death?
So about over two weeks into my hospital stay, a surgeon came to see me and told me I'd need immediate surgery to have my colon removed as death was imminent. There was also a higher chance of dying than survival with the surgery option which didn't quite register at the time. But for once during my time there someone was being very direct, and I almost instantly had faith in what this surgeon was saying to me. I can't help but wonder if things had been different if he had been called in from the start.
Having suffered from depression for most of my life, I'd have thought I'd have welcomed death with open arms, but for the first time, I didn't want to die.
Having said that, the physical pain I was feeling was excruciating, and death would have finally put an end to it. It was quite sad.
I was sad at the possibility of never being able to see my family again especially my nieces and nephew - And sad because I felt I hadn't fulfiled any sort of purpose. I felt like I wasn't done and not quite ready to leave the world having yet to accomplish the things I want to achieve.
To some degree, besides the sadness, I was able to come to terms with my situation. If that's what's supposed to happen then let it be - was the thought in my head. Also, life so far had been mentally draining and an ongoing uphill battle. For me, dying wasn't entirely the worst case scenario.
I was also quite desperate for rest and a good night's sleep! Not to mention the curiosity about where we go after we die.
I joked to my sisters about how 'the good die young' and found some form of comfort in that hoping I'd be remembered as one of the 'good ones'