She was wheeled through the corridors of the county hospital in her chair… «Where to?» one nurse asked another. «Perhaps not a private roommaybe the general ward?»
I grew uneasy. «Why the general ward if a private one is available?»
The nurses looked at her with such genuine pity that I was utterly bewildered. Only later did she learn that patients were moved to private rooms to die unseen by others.
«The doctor said private,» the nurse repeated.
I settled then. And when I found myself on the bed, I felt a deep peace simply from knowing I had nowhere left to go, nothing left to owe anyone. My burdens had vanished. A strange detachment from the world settled over menothing in it mattered anymore.
No one and nothing held my interest. I had earned the right to rest. And it was good. I was alone with myself, with my soul, with my life. Just I and I. Gone were the troubles, the haste, the weighty questions. All that scrambling for trivial things seemed so petty next to Eternity, next to Life and Death, next to the unknown that awaited us…
And thenreal Life surged around me! How splendid it was: birdsong at dawn, a sunbeam creeping along the wall above my bed, golden leaves waving at me through the window, the deep blue of an autumn sky, the waking citys humcar horns, the click of heels on pavement, the whisper of falling leaves… Good Lord, how marvelous Life was! And only now did I understand it.
«So what?» I told myself. «But Ive understood. And I still have a few days to relish it, to love it with all my heart.»
This wave of freedom and happiness demanded release, so I turned to GodHe was closer to me now than anyone.
«Dear Lord!» I rejoiced. «Thank You for letting me see how beautiful Life is, for teaching me to love it. Even if its just before death, Ive learned how wonderful it is to live!»
A quiet joy filled me, a serenity, a freedom, a soaring lightness. The world shimmered with golden light, pulsing with divine Love. I felt its energy in wavesdense yet soft, transparent as an ocean swell. It saturated everything, even the air, which grew thick and slow to enter my lungs, flowing in like liquid. All I saw was bathed in that golden glow. I loved! And it was the union of Bachs organ thunder and a violins flight.
The private room, the diagnosis of «acute leukaemia, stage four,» the doctors verdict of irreversible declinethey had their perks. The dying were allowed visitors anytime. Relatives were told to gather for the funeral, and a stream of mourners came to bid me farewell.
I understood their strugglewhat does one say to a dying woman? Especially one who knows it. Their flustered faces amused me.
I was glad. When else would I see them all? And above all, I longed to share this love of Lifehow could anyone not be happy for that? I cheered them as best I could: jokes, stories, laughter. Thank God, they all left merry, our farewells wrapped in joy.
By the third day, I grew restless. I walked the room, sat by the window. The doctor found me there and scolded me for rising.
I blinked. «Will it change anything?»
«No,» she faltered. «But you shouldnt be walking.»
«Why not?»
«Your tests are corpse-level. You shouldnt even be alive, let alone standing.»
The four days theyd given me passed. I didnt die. I ate sausage and bananas with relish. I felt fine. The doctor did not. The tests hadnt budged. My blood was barely pink, yet I wandered to the lounge to watch telly.
Poor woman. Love demanded joy for others.
«Doctor, what would you *like* the tests to say?»
«Well, at least this.» She scribbled letters and numbers. I didnt understand but studied them gravely. She muttered and left.
At nine the next morning, she burst in. «How are you doing this?!»
«Doing what?»
«The tests! They match what I wrote!»
«Oh! How should I know? Does it matter?»
They moved me to the general ward. The mourners had said their goodbyes.
Five other women shared the room. They faced the wall, silently, grimly dying. I lasted three hours. My Love was suffocating. Something had to be done. I hauled a watermelon from under the bed, sliced it, and announced, «This helps nausea after chemo.»
The scent of fresh snow filled the air. Hesitant steps shuffled toward the table.
«Really helps?»
«Mhm,» I confirmed sagely.
Juicy crunching followed.
«Its true,» said the one by the window on crutches.
«Me too… Me too…»
«See?» I nodded. «Ive a story about that… Know the joke?»
At 2 a.m., a nurse scowled in. «When will you stop cackling? The whole floor cant sleep!»
Three days later, the doctor hesitantly asked, «Could you switch rooms?»
«Why?»
«Everyone heres improved. Next doors full of critical cases.»
«No!» my roommates cried. «She stays.»
So I stayed. Soon, patients from other wards crept injust to chat, to laugh. I knew why. Love lived in our room. It wrapped everyone in gold, warm and safe. My favourite was a sixteen-year-old Bashkir girl in a white headscarf knotted at her nape. The loose ends made her look like a little hare.
Lymph node cancer. At first, I thought she never smiled. A week later, I saw how sweetly shy her grin was. When she said her meds were working, we threw a feast. The doctor on duty gaped. «Thirty years here, and Ive never seen this.» He left. We laughed at his face for hours.
I read, wrote poems, gazed out the window, walked the halls, loved everythingbooks, juice, neighbours, the old tree outside. They gave me vitamins. The doctor barely spoke, just side-eyed me. After three weeks, she muttered, «Your haemoglobins 20 points above healthy levels. Dont raise it further.»
She seemed cross. By rights, shed misdiagnosed mebut that was impossible, and she knew it.
Once, she sighed, «I cant confirm your diagnosis. Youre recovering without treatment. That cant happen.»
«What *is* my diagnosis?»
«I havent decided,» she whispered, and left.
At discharge, she admitted, «Ill miss you. Weve so many still suffering.»
Our room emptied. Ward deaths dropped 30% that month.
Life went on. But my view had shiftedas though I now saw the world from above, its scale changed. Lifes meaning was so simple: learn to love, and your power becomes boundless. All wishes come trueif shaped with love. No lies, no envy, no spite. So simple. So hard.
For its true: God is Love. We need only remember in time.
