Page 7 - INSIDE_ACCESS_SEPTEMBER_2ND-EDITION

INFO ZONE
At 31,
I have just weeks to live.
Here's what I want to pass on
Now that there is no longer any way to treat my cancer, I've been reflecting on what I want others to know about life and death. Given the pandemic, I thought I wouldn't be able to live out my last few months in the way I'd imagined. It seemed I would be stuck alone, with no light at the end of the tunnel, without the comfort of friends or family. Five months on, I'm still here, but much has changed.
Thankfully, the experience wasn't as bleak as you might think. During the first few weeks of lockdown, I found I was floating nicely through by staying occupied and upbeat. In many ways, you can't beat the liberation of being able to wake up when you feel like it, having few plans set in stone and being able to do whatever you want with the time you have. Over the past couple of months, although my energy levels have dropped, and I have started doing less. I look drastically different. I have lost a lot of weight. At points I was really struggling. The loneliness of COVID-19 was making me miserable, and I needed company. My sister came to the rescue at just the right time. She moved back into our shared flat at the end of June. It made a huge difference, and I don't know where I would be without her. After months of isolation, having a family member close by changed everything.
After pinning my hopes on the idea of a drug trial for so long, it just took over a week for it to batter me. My days involved moving from my room to the sofa, feeling like I had the flu and struggling with mental fog. Almost immediately I realised I just couldn't do it. Life for me is about living, not just clocking up the years. And this drug made living feel almost impossible.
I realised I had to finally accept the inevitable: that there was no treatment. I thought this mindset would leave me feeling completely liberated. I was wrong. But there was nothing left to fight, it really was just a question of waiting. The battle became emotional and mental. It has forced me to reflect.
Of course, the second part of the storyline won't be written now. It's a shame I don't get to see what happens. But everybody dies, and there will always be places and experiences missing from anyone's life the world has too much beauty and adventure for one person to see. I will miss marriage or children, blossoming careers and lives moving on. But I'm not alone in my life being cut short, and I think my time has been pretty good.
PAGE 7 INSIDE ACCESS | SEPTEMBER 2020 2ND EDITION