Recommendations of the Editorial team
When Thomas Gottschalk steps onto the big studio stage for the last time on December 6, 2025, the RTL event will be a nostalgic final chord for many television viewers. For him, however, his role in the improvisation show “Because they don’t know what’s happening!” (together with Barbara Schöneberger and Günther Jauch) is far more than the end of an era. It’s an evening that – viewed soberly – he might not have experienced without his wife Karina.
Karina noticed what Thomas was repressing
In the summer of 2025, Karina Gottschalk noticed something was wrong long before a doctor did. Her husband suddenly became taciturn, listless and “quieter”. And he often had to go to the toilet, as can be read in “Bild” and “Bunte”. A break in the 75-year-old’s rhythm.
“I didn’t know him like that,” the 63-year-old says later. A sentence that sounds reserved and yet expresses everything that was between the lines: concern. And a bad premonition. Thomas Gottschalk, on the other hand, dismissed the discomfort in old-school fashion. Just like many do who are used to going through life functioning. “Typical man,” says Karina. “Of course he didn’t want to go to the doctor.”
So she decided in his favor and organized an appointment at a Munich clinic – against her husband’s resistance, but supported by the feeling that there was no time to lose. There followed a momentous diagnosis: cancer. A rare, aggressive form. Immediate surgery required.
“Thank God the cancer was detected in time,” she says looking back. “If we had only waited six months… who knows if Thomas would still be alive today.” The ex-radio DJ had to undergo two major operations. Suddenly there was no more headlights.
It is anything but self-evident that Gottschalk can now, after months of uncertainty and convalescence, decide the time of his departure himself. And perhaps it explains why he speaks unusually openly about weaknesses, vulnerabilities and finiteness in interviews these days.
A new tone – also for the audience
Against this background, his recent failures at public appearances, most recently at the “Romy” award ceremony in Vienna, appear in a different light. This new tone is a surprise for his audience of millions, who have seen him for decades as an unwavering entertainer and, ultimately, a rather old-fashioned joker.
When the proverbial curtain comes down for Thomas Gottschalk on St. Nicholas Day, this moment will be the finale of one of Germany’s longest television careers. It will also be a silent tribute to the woman at his side – and to the decision that most likely saved his life.

