The pessimist's version

Here's the text of an email I sent out last night to almost 100 people:

Hello, there:

First of all, let me explain and apologize for this mass email. Since I returned from my vacation in B.C., I've received dozens of emails, most of which I haven't responded to.

You may or may not know that I'm back in St. Michael's Hospital, again unable to walk, and heading for the palliative care ward. I'm sorry to give you bad news by email, but I feel I have to do it this way to save time, a precious commodity just now.

I've had slews of scans and tests over the past few days, and the news is dire: I probably have about three months to live. The only doctor I haven't consulted is "Dr. Noguff," who was awfully optimistic about a month ago -- but she's out of town.

Anyway, it's a lot to absorb. I am starting to feel overwhelmed, and also like it's time to circle the wagons. My choices about who I want to see in my last days are painful to make, but certainly my family comes first. (Especially as my sister's ex-husband, father of her young son and daughter, died suddenly last week.}

Some of you have heard this news already, and some of you haven't, and to be honest, I can't recall which is which. If you'd like to email back, I probably won't get a chance to reply. But I love knowing you're thinking of me, and of course I think of you often. And I'm sorry if you think our relationship merits more (or less) than this email -- it does, and we'll still be in touch. I'm just so worried that one of the 75+ people who've sent emails in the past month will feel out of the loop, and I'd like to respond while I still have my wits about me, and my ability to type. I'm just one of those people who can't leave an email unanswered!

Besides being unable to walk, I'm sleeping more now, and my hands are getting shaky, so typing is slow. I lose control of my bowels easily. Other than that I'm comfortable except for spine pain, which is mostly controlled by meds. The most important thing is feeling safe from falls.

I wouldn't say my brain is clear and focused, but it doesn't seem much worse than those of my middle-aged friends! Still, everything is about to fall apart, and whether I need or want everybody to witness that is doubtful.

However, I like to think I'll be lucky and see/talk to/hear from all of you again (on terra firma!). But because that's becoming less likely as the weeks pass, I will take a page from my cousin Terri-Lee, who would say to her father, my uncle Sheldon, as he lay dying: "I'll see you in my dreams!"

Matt and Joan D. and I have been following the World War II poster adage "Keep Calm and Carry On." Then Joan changed it to "Keep Calm and Eat Cupcakes." I would like to add: "Keep at least a few meters away from Cynthia after she's eaten cupcakes."

See you in my dreams! (And bring cupcakes! Angel food!)

Love, and eternal gratitude,

Cynthia

Tomorrow I will let you in on Dr. Lee's -- surprise! surprise! -- very, very marginally more optimistic take. Who knew...

Pollyanna moments:

• Lovely, warm visit with Robin last night, with the gift of poetry.
• Lovely, busy visit with C&M today; they gave my sore arm a break and Googled some medical info I needed.
• Lovely, helpful visit with a palliative counsellor today.
• My brothers continue to trudge in to see me, dragging things I need.
• My sister and her kids are coming to visit on the weekend.