Valtrex.......

I'm not sure that I am following your line of thinking. If I were to fall in love with a man with herpes, he had better be telling me about it up front. I would not let herpes be a deal-breaker. Yes, I would want to take the steps to reduce my chances of contracting it, but if I got it, oh well. Sometimes you have to take the good with the bad. If I were to find out about it somewhere down the line, I would be flaming mad!

 

That's sad, jam. My siblings and I helped my mother through a terminal illness... and while I wish she had not suffered so, I was grateful to be part of that stage of her life. In her dying, she taught me how to accept help with dignity... how to find peace amidst the pain... and most importantly, how to die with grace and serenity.

I am glad she did not rob me of that lesson.

 

But not everyone is cut out for that. At least he is up front about it and not pretending to be something that he is not. But you never know what events cause someone to change their thinking.

 

Absolutely! Just as he is upfront about not getting involved with someone who has herpes. To each his/her own...

 

I know how you feel about dropping dead at 75 as opposed to living a greatly compromised life 'til 85 or so. Most of us would probably choose that option. But we don't always get a choice of our manner of dying.

My mother used to say that if she ever took sick, she'd go out back and shoot herself rather than put herself or us through a lingering illness. When she endured, I reminded her of that comment and asked her what changed her mind. (My mother was a VERY strong, capable woman and she and I had a good and open relationship.)

She told me that she never realized how strong the will to live is until she was faced with dying. While not attempting to prolong her life artificially, she wanted every breath she could take on her own. She wanted to stay with us as long as naturally possible.

Yes, I remember her in her illness... but strangely enough, that's not what first comes to mind when I think about her. Most of my memories are of her liveliness... her resourcefulness... and most of all, her love for us all.

And although I might be wrong, to this day I think it is my participation in her final months that gives me freedom from the grief of her passing. I am able to celebrate her life. And mine. She would want nothing less.

 

Nope -- sure can't! And maybe what you say is true in most cases. But then again, we always were a kinda unique family.