How do cancer patients know the end is near?

 My father was the epitome of impeccable health well into his older years, the strongest, healthiest person I knew. Walking 25,000 steps per day, always energetic, near perfect vision, mentally sharp (he had a PhD in mathematics), my father had every quality in his 70s that I wish I had in my 50s! Best of all, he was a very humble man and wonderfully loving father.

My dad was a renowned scientist at Oak Ridge National Laboratory where he studied nucleology. Unfortunately, he and many of his fellow scientists developed sarcoma later in life, a rare form of cancer. Some of his cohorts had already died in their 30s and 40s. My father didn’t acquire sarcoma until the age of 73, striking with little warning and spreading quickly throughout his entire body. It remains unknown whether or not the fate of these scientists was connected to the decades of nuclear research projects they performed. But it seems likely.

At 73, my father awoke in the middle of the night in pain, was driven to the hospital by my mother, and by the time he arrived 15 minutes later he had no feeling below his rib cage. A tumor had grown along the spine and rapidly shut off the nerves, blocking any feeling all the way to the tip of his toes. The doctors ran tests and found cancer everywhere in his body. They were brutally honest when they returned to his hospital room and gave him three to six months to live. He lasted three months.

The question

To answer your question, how did he know the end was near? After three months of being bedridden and paralyzed, with his spirits high and his faith strong, he was lying awake around 4:00 a.m. when he suddenly struggled to breathe. His lungs couldn’t take in enough oxygen. He summoned my mother who was asleep in the same room. He knew it was the end.

The finale

My parents had been together for 55 years, meeting when they were teens. My mother held his hand, and he whispered, “Will you be okay without me?” to which my mother replied, “I’ll be fine.” And within seconds after those words, he was gone. I was on a plane flying to come see him when he passed, so I didn’t make it in time to say goodbye. But we had spent plenty of time together, especially in the final months, so I was at total peace. The world lost one of the greatest mathematicians of the 20th century that day. But I lost the greatest father.