This brought tears to my eyes. I know exactly what he is talking about, and he described it better than I ever could.
I saw a talk by someone from Stanford Hospital on diagnosing lung cancer a few weeks ago and the statistics are dismal. Most people have nodules in their lungs that will show up as false positives on scans. The window where a possible tumor on a scan is large enough that it's worth risking a biopsy and where you catch the tumor early enough is very small. By the time a patient has symptoms, it is too late, the cancer has already metastasized and spread to other parts of the body. Across all forms of lung cancer, median survival time is less than seven months after diagnosis.
"The most horrible thing about watching a cancer like this kill your sister is that you can’t give up hope, yet hope is something that you can’t drum up in large doses. Evidence and facts work against that. But still you hope. And pulled between the two, eventually you can’t even breath."
I really have to agree with this statement. My dad was recently diagnosed with stage 3 myeloma at 56 years old and is fighting his way back from what looked like the end. He has a 30% chance of surviving beyond 5 years. Hope is difficult, you hope that he will be the exception, the one that defies all scientific data. But the numbers say eventually the cancer will beat him.
What can you do? Does life stop? Even my father says life has to go on, I am 400 miles away doing my job, paying my bills and he's just trying to keep going.
We got her into hospice last week, and are moving her to be closer to family this week.
She still thinks it's all temporary, though. One on level she knows the doctors can't do anything, but on another level she really, really, really wants to believe that it'll all just go away if she ignores it enough.
The emotions of the parent when they get older and die was something I was not expecting, and it's definitely the hardest part.
This is a touching piece of writing. I think anybody who has lost someone close can relate to this. It is tough being pulled between continuing and mourning. You never know what to do, and no matter what you do you're no closer to the one you lost.
These types always make me reconsider the value of the work I am doing. Because it seems so inconsequential to be writing code when so many significant problems in the world remain unsolved.
True, but having experienced both I can say that there's a big difference between someone in their 80s dying - we expect that, to some degree - and someone in their 30s or 40s dying way before they should.
agreed... there is a difference. a big one indeed... but both inevitably lead there.
i'm not saying therefore we should all go out and kill ourselves... just that its an inevitability. and very few people struggle with the reality of what that means in this life.
Would it feel more relevant if you were familiar with the author's credentials? James Duncan Davidson, among other things, wrote Tomcat and the Java build tool Ant (and got both donated from Sun to the Apache Software Foundation). He wrote or cowrote a number of O'Reilly books on Cocoa and OS X, and contributed a chapter on deployment to the well known Agile Web Development with Rails. All that prior to his budding career as a photographer.
Having that information might make it feel more appropriate in this forum, but I would hope a topic like this, which will affect everyone at some point in their life, would be fair game on HN.
I saw a talk by someone from Stanford Hospital on diagnosing lung cancer a few weeks ago and the statistics are dismal. Most people have nodules in their lungs that will show up as false positives on scans. The window where a possible tumor on a scan is large enough that it's worth risking a biopsy and where you catch the tumor early enough is very small. By the time a patient has symptoms, it is too late, the cancer has already metastasized and spread to other parts of the body. Across all forms of lung cancer, median survival time is less than seven months after diagnosis.