Death at the bar

This is the story told by the patient. When the obstetrician and gynaecologist announced that I had ovarian cancer, I thought to myself, God, this is the third cancer I have ever had. I used to watch an advertisement on TV. The content is that someone has fallen from the valley and is not dead. He stood up and was rolled over by the truck. He still didn't die. In the end, lightning struck him. He didn't die. The god of death was drinking a certain brand of beer in the bar and forgot his work for the time being.

At the beginning, I thought of this advertisement. I really understand in my heart that the survival rate of ovarian cancer is very low. Very few people like me have lived for a year. Despite this, I still forced myself to think in the direction of optimism. Since I have survived the first two cancers, I thought, then there is no reason that I can't survive the third.

I am the caregiver of the ward myself, and I still stick to my position until now. A great care for me who has suffered all kinds of pains like me is that once the patient knows that you are suffering from their feelings, they will really like you, respect you, and listen to your opinions. For a while my mantra was:

"You see me, got three cancers, it's not the same struggle here..."

Later, I used this sentence less and less, because every time an old patient introduces me to a new patient, it is natural to say:

"You look at the nursing, she has had three cancers..."

These claims give the patient a greater guarantee than medical care. If the nurse can survive if he has three cancers, then they can naturally live. My survival has become a proof of optimism or struggle. Everyone strongly hopes that I will live, and I also have a strong sense of responsibility.

Honestly, from a certain perspective, I need my patients far better than they need me. My work made me discover the inner fears and uneasiness of the patient, so I told myself not to.

Like our ward recently, there is a female terminal cancer patient who knows that her husband has committed suicide after she has a woman outside. Later, I told her: "Since you have to go, someone is willing to take care of him for you, what is wrong?"

When I talked to my husband about this, he just smiled. "I mean," I said again. "If I am gone, I hope you will find another intimate partner."

He is still the same, just smiling. For more than four years, I have arranged insurance, real estate, and deposits... All that is about the future, he just smiles like that. He doesn't like to talk about those things, as if all of my arrangements would not happen.

I tried to make life no different, driving to the hospital to go to work, receiving chemotherapy, picking up my daughter to go to class... Pretending that everything is as usual. I have no other way, we all need these everyday life.

I have a sixteen-year-old daughter who has been with me since the age of twelve. Maybe I am subconsciously thinking that I may not be so lucky this time. I will use my time to tell my daughter how to cook rice, cook, clean the dishes, use the washing machine... these mothers should teach the daughter Things. She is always embarrassed, I am not at ease. However, it seems that the more I teach her, the greater her resistance. We often quarrel in the car for these trivial things. In the car this afternoon, she actually asked me:

"Mom, are you going to die tomorrow?"

I thought for a moment: "Not yet."

"If not, can you not be so anxious to force me?"

I didn't say anything after listening to it, my face sank. I never thought about these things giving her so much pressure.

Before going to bed at night, I found that she had washed the kitchen utensils. She left me a note with the words:

Mom, sorry, I said those words this afternoon. Please don't worry about me. I won't be embarrassed forever, I just don't want you to die...

My first reaction was: Mom didn't want to die. Later I remembered the advertisement of the god of death in the bar. I am a very strong person. But when I remembered that the god of death was so leisurely drinking beer, I was half-dead here, and I couldn’t help it anymore. For the first time in my life, I burst into tears.