To the Ones Giving Up

Letters to my patients, day 25

Photo by Photos of Korea on Unsplash

Your thin frame feels every corner of the clinic’s plastic orange chairs. 5 pounds lost in the last week, 85 pounds down since your initial diagnosis. Pulling back the thick sweater to listen to your lungs, I see suspenders holding up pants that used to be too tight. Obviously 6ft, 2in was built to carry more than 120 pounds of weight.

The recent scan shows everything is stable, your cancer is not growing. In one sense, chemotherapy is working. But the rest of your body says otherwise. Chemotherapy shows no partiality — it attacks both the cancer and your healthy cells. This additive effect, over time, can be worse than the disease itself.

Your wife of 45 years sits beside you as usual, leaning forward, asking most of the questions today. Dedicated to providing you top-notch care and comfort, her support has carried you this far. Now you don’t want to go any further and she doesn’t understand.

Her heart knows this is best, but her mind screams NO! To stop treatment would go against everything she has been fighting so hard for — a longer life for the man she loves.

In this moment, we allow silence to settle onto our triangle. I am not here to convince you to keep trying, nor to force her to understand your point of view. Instead, she looks into your eyes and I see the connection of 45 years speak for itself.

She sees your weary body, weakness catching up with you, the naps you take throughout the day, your tired eyes and acceptance of the end. Beyond that, she sees the love your heart holds for her, as strong as it was the day you proposed, the day she delivered your first child, the day she graduated college, the day you carried her across the threshold of your first home. And in that moment, she understands.

It is not giving up, it is choosing to stop.

It is not a passive release of control, it is actively choosing the next best step.

This step toward less fighting and more rest is just as admirable as any taken before it.

---

When you feel like you are giving up, take what you need:

I have fought well, I can choose rest.

I will never feel fully ready for the end, but I can still welcome it when it comes.

I am worthy of love, no matter where I am on in this journey.

This is hard, I will take it one day at a time.

I am not giving up, I am choosing the next best step for me. I am choosing peace.

Thank you for being here,

Similar letters:

To the Ones Welcoming Death

To the Ones Facing Death

To the Grieving Spouse

To the Ones Who May Never Be Cured

This is part of a 31-day series of letters to my patients — those undergoing a work-up, diagnosis, or treatment for cancer. Topics are also focused on those caregiving and supporting individuals affected by cancer. This is not an easy journey, but you do not have to do it alone.

Letters to your mailbox — Coming 2025