A script that generates latin phrases

This webbed site is best viewed on a larger screen, such as a personal computer or digital tablet.

Abuse Admin Animals Birthdays Body image Career Children Communication Cooking Dad Lore Death Family Fashion Friendship HBTQ+ History Life skills Mental Health Philosophy Politics Relationships Romance

017 – Terminal

Content Warning

This comic contains conversations about terminal illness and death.

Hello kiddos. Qlad is back with another question, and I think we better just get into it. Qlad: When finding out that someone close has a terminal illness, how does one support them while being very sad about it oneself? I’m sorry you’re having such a tough time, Qlad. Sometimes life just doesn’t pull any punches. Not knowing the situation, I can only really speak about what I did when I was in a similar place. About ten years ago, my aunt was diagnosed with brain cancer. She died nine months later. We weren’t super close, but she was a part of my very small family. She was also my mom’s last living family member. Mom dropped everything to be her sisters caretaker, and I helped out by helping my mom the best I could. That year, we spent Christmas in hospice with my cousins. It was... a rough time, to say the least. Nothing is easy about a terminal illness, for anyone involved. How to handle it depends a lot on the people involved. My mom’s side of the family are good at gallows humor, so we dealt with it by finding something to laugh at. Talk to the person, about ordinary things or how they’re feeling or how terrible the situation is. Whatever you feel is appropriate. Let them set the tone. Maybe they don’t want to talk about it at all, or maybe the illness is all they want to talk about. If talking is too hard, maybe you can support them through other means. Do you cook? Do they need help with cleaning, or laundry? Do they need a ride somewhere, or company? And, this might sound harsh, but remember that they’re still a whole person. Their illness is only one aspect of them. That last Christmas with my aunt, I still got her a present. It felt too sad to leave her out, even though we all knew she didn’t have long to live. There may not be a future, but we still have now. We still get to be alive, for whatever time we have. No matter what it is, I’m sure you’ll find something you can do to support them during this difficult time. And that brings us to the other part of the equation: you. When my aunt got sick, I was busy with my first semester of psychology. I barely had time to help my mom, let alone feel my own feelings. That whole period of time is just a blur in my memory now, and I regret that. Take time to grieve. Let yourself be sad about this. Give yourself time and space to process what’s happening. Illness changes a person. If you can, take a moment to think about the person you want to remember once they’re gone. What memories do you want to hold on to? My paternal grandpa had Alzheimers. I don’t want to remember him as the person he was at the end of his life, but as the man who was so quiet and reserved but clearly loved me. Who, whenever I was leaving after a visit, would give me the biggest hug and tell me to take care of myself. That’s my grandpa. Be brave. Be vulnerable. You will get through this, and I’m with you in whatever way I can be. Always know that I love you.