I’m also curious why I react the way I do. Why I don’t just accept that cancer, but make it a party.
You have to give it a place, said the expert. You waltz over it, you have fucking cancer, and you act like you caught a cold. You laugh about it, you forget to cry. That just can’t go well.
Spot on, please! It has a place for a long time, I replied. That takes up about half my kidney and a good part of my lung. All in all a decent place I’d say.
There you go again, he said. Always be funny. It is not fair to yourself and you are also doing your environment short.
Excuse me? My environment? He doesn’t have cancer, does he?
No, but you should also give your friends and family the opportunity to process this. By laughing out loud, you mow the grass away from their feet.
Well, they process it on their own time. And by staying cheerful I make it easier for them, right? At least that’s my intention. What’s the point if I sit and whine? Who benefits from this?
There is still an area of fallow, Eelco, between having fun and whining.
Yeah, and I’m going to mine that now, if you don’t mind. For a book, not for you. I am also curious as to why I react the way I do. Why I don’t just accept that cancer, but make it a party. I admit that it also seems a bit hysterical to me.
Well done. Fine, that book, but I think I could guide you very well in this.
Yes, I can already hear the cash register ringing.
Seriously: we can look for the answer together, right?
Well yes. I already have a few hints for you: through the unhappy childhood to the relationship with the German teacher at the school of the Carmelite Fathers, and then straight into the first relationship and job, only to get stuck, start over, and so on. . I already have a conclusion, but I’ll keep it to myself for now.
That sounds promising. Let’s schedule some sessions.
Isn’t it a little late for a new therapy? I have 16 months and 29 days left.
We call it conversations, not therapy.
OK. If you promise not to start whining about spots again.
The expert promised. Two days later the results of a new scan came: a spot had been added.
Volkskrant journalist Eelco Meuleman (60), who has been diagnosed with terminal kidney cancer, writes about his life every week.