The Day I Started Lying to Ruth: A cancer doctor on losing his wife to cancer.
This is a fantastic piece from newyork magazine. Of course, it is a bit long… but I just wanted to share with all of you. Here are a few excerpts that especially caught my attention.
It was a warm night for early June, the beginning of the winter in Argentina. People crowded the sidewalks, returning from work, stopping for dinner. All the everyday stuff that fills our lives, neither adding particular meaning or taking it away. We pulled into the garage with the narrow entrance; our tires squeaked on the newly painted floor. Ruth was silent. I was silent. I knew. She didn’t.
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.
I realized that I now had a secret we couldn’t discuss. I could see her future. Where she would end up. What she might look like. How she might suffer with me standing helplessly by her side. She couldn’t.
I saw in that lowered lip, that half-smile masquerading as a full one, a secret tell. She was in deep pain, privately pondering an imminent darkness, knowing that we no longer had an uncountable number of nights and days ahead.
Read the rest here