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Hannah’s daddy was a teacher who barely made enough money to raise his six
kids. Hannah wore hand-me-downs from her older sisters. For Christmas she
usually got used dolls and books. As a child, she yearned to have the beautiful
clothes, cars, and homes that she often saw on TV and in magazines.
Several years after she graduated from college, she became part-owner of a
successful interior decorating business in Manhattan. Her life became what she
had dreamed about as a little girl. A successful business woman, she had a
handsome, wealthy fiancé. She owned her own co-op near Central Park. She took
skiing vacations in the winter and exotic cruises in the summer. At the age of
30, Hannah was on top of the world.
Then she underwent a routine health checkup, and her perfect world
crumbled. Her doctor told her that she had pancreatic cancer. Surgery was
necessary to determine how much the cancer had spread. Hannah was operated on a
week later. The surgeon suspected that cancer had spread to vital organs. Ten
days later, the lab confirmed his suspicions.
Hannah’s doctor said he could treat her with chemotherapy and painkillers,
but it was just a matter of time before the cancer killed her. She asked how
much time. He guessed that she had less than a year to live. How can this be,
Hannah wondered. Doesn’t this always happen to someone else?
A couple of weeks later, she visited another cancer specialist. He examined
her and read her medical and lab reports. He said he agreed with her surgeon.
“If you have any once-in-a-lifetime plans, do them now,” he advised.
Instead, Hannah spent her last months in her co-op, tended to by hospice
workers. Her family and friends visited her regularly. The moment before she
died, she opened her eyes and tried to say something to her fiancé. She squeezed
his hand weakly.
“She was in constant pain,” her fiancé said. “At the end, she could barely
whisper. She weighed 80 pounds when she died. I can’t believe that God allows
things like this to happen to people.” |
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发表于 2016-7-10 09:21:21