I dreamed that I was back at home, catching up with S's friends about her death. Someone said - yes, you've always seemed sweet and kind - we think she wrote about you in this poem. There's this character Sue that we thought was probably you - she is reaching her hand out to pat a dog but the more she wants to pat it the more the dog backs away!
I want to explain that it's the opposite, that I patted a dog and it wanted more and more until it had to be sent away because it was going crazy with anxiety. But I know that sounds stupid and arrogant so I don't say anything.
It turns out though that S has been misdiagnosed, and she's not dead at all. We are in her house and I get to see her again. I'm so relieved and she seems quite well, but we know she is going to die soon. I think this is my opportunity to ask the things or talk about the things we didn't get the chance to talk about. I ask her about the dog, and she says yes, the dog was much more difficult to look after than she let on to anybody, so she'd hidden it or sent it away. Then all I can think of to ask is whether she has any reassurance for other friends. And I realise I'm not being very helpful, so I start to do the dishes.
TV crews have shown up outside and left piles of present boxes and balloons on the front lawn - it's her birthday, but really they want to interview her about her miraculous situation. My stepdad comes in to ask whether she wants to do this and he's impatient and demanding. Yes or no, chop-chop! Instantly I'm anxious and I bark back at him. I realise this is not helpful, so I calm myself down and take over the conversation. Would she like me to go and get rid of them? Yes.
So I go out and it's TV1 and TV3. TV3 is there. I tell them she doesn't want to spend her last minutes like this and they start to scatter. Mark Sainsbury looks at me and says - we agree, most of us didn't want to be here doing this, it's a terrible idea. The producers pushed us.
They leave. I go in and we have just quiet empty time together, with nothing to do.
I want to explain that it's the opposite, that I patted a dog and it wanted more and more until it had to be sent away because it was going crazy with anxiety. But I know that sounds stupid and arrogant so I don't say anything.
It turns out though that S has been misdiagnosed, and she's not dead at all. We are in her house and I get to see her again. I'm so relieved and she seems quite well, but we know she is going to die soon. I think this is my opportunity to ask the things or talk about the things we didn't get the chance to talk about. I ask her about the dog, and she says yes, the dog was much more difficult to look after than she let on to anybody, so she'd hidden it or sent it away. Then all I can think of to ask is whether she has any reassurance for other friends. And I realise I'm not being very helpful, so I start to do the dishes.
TV crews have shown up outside and left piles of present boxes and balloons on the front lawn - it's her birthday, but really they want to interview her about her miraculous situation. My stepdad comes in to ask whether she wants to do this and he's impatient and demanding. Yes or no, chop-chop! Instantly I'm anxious and I bark back at him. I realise this is not helpful, so I calm myself down and take over the conversation. Would she like me to go and get rid of them? Yes.
So I go out and it's TV1 and TV3. TV3 is there. I tell them she doesn't want to spend her last minutes like this and they start to scatter. Mark Sainsbury looks at me and says - we agree, most of us didn't want to be here doing this, it's a terrible idea. The producers pushed us.
They leave. I go in and we have just quiet empty time together, with nothing to do.
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