I have been very disturbed since the last CT-Scan results. We were progressing in such amazing ways that the sudden stop has been very unsettling. We knew it was coming. Everybody stop reacting to their Chemo cocktail at some point. 17 Chemo sessions is a lot to put the body through and expect stellar results. At some point the body just gives up and stops reacting. I am there.

The repercussions of this are not known. We live day by day not expecting much. This is not a negative feeling. You just have to learn to appreciate all things at all times.

I was lying in bed last night when the visual of walking along a precipice presented itself. I imagine a whole bunch of us walking along this precipice not daring to look down. Some stones crumble off the edge as we take our walks and fall silently into the unseen depths below us. A bit of our life chipping away? Fewer days ahead?

The edge of the precipice is crowded. Some are closer to the edge, others further up the small hill that abuts the precipice. We are all milling about, recognising some faces, talking, making new friends, contemplating, sitting in silence. We lose someone occasionally as the ground beneath them crumbles taking them in the void below. Some people congregate taking solace in the crowd, others stray farther afield treasuring their solitude. Yet others remain close to the entrance hoping against hope for a way out. The nature of the crowd changes continuously.

People move towards the precipice, as life is coming to a close, then back off as they are given a reprieve of sorts, more time. Time for whatever you think deserves it.

In the distance you see a wall behind which there are suitcases and backpacks and purses and containers. Everyone comes here with their baggage, real or imagined. They topple to their fate leaving it all behind. It accumulates gathering dust, rotting into the ether, a reminder of sorts. I will let your imagination sort that one out. There are tags on everything identifying the owner, some still with us, others long gone. The dust of time hangs heavy in the air. No one ventures further in.

Should you dare look down into the precipice, you will see nothing. Deep, cavernous, never ending, the sides shrouded in mist. People toppling over in silence. No screams or shouts of surprise at the fall. If you listen carefully, you might hear a heavy grateful sigh. A soul leaving the body perhaps, a sigh of gratification maybe.

There is a sense if resignation amongst the crowd. No one has given up. There is no sadness. The inevitable fall is staring us in the face. Yet, we mingle, compare notes, talk, laugh and make the best of it. No longer a question of why but rather one of when?

The first did not have an answer, and the second is no better.