It’s your time to be selfish

In March 2020, Lara’s Dad, David, was given a terminal prognosis after being diagnosed with an aggressive form of Bowel Cancer. This was around the same time as the first COVID-19 British lockdown, which Lara says blessed her family with two silver linings: ‘time and togetherness’. Here, Lara shares her journey with us.

Why you should be selfish

If there’s one piece of advice, I’d give to anyone in a similar position to that which I was in – to have a loved one facing a terminal prognosis – it’d be to be selfish, no matter how hard it feels. By the end of this blog post, I hope you understand why.

In October 2021, I published my first book, ‘From Prognosis to Peace’, it bridges a difficult, but vital, gap in communication. It grants you permission to gently start your grieving process with your loved one, before fate takes its toll. I know from first-hand experience that this is not easy. In fact, accepting the fact that my dad was going to die was probably hardest thing I’ve ever done or ever will do. However, the peace I felt once I could talk about it with him was an invaluable part of my healing journey. I’m here to meet you where you’re at, right now, and guide you from a place of empathy and compassion. If you read the book, by the end of it, I hope you will feel stronger, lighter, and more connected to yourself, your loved one and the world around you.

Dealing with grief

When my Dad received his terminal prognosis in March 2020, I didn’t want there to be a single word left unsaid to him. It was my sole aim for as long as we had left together to acknowledge, accept, and process the grief with him before he died. During this time together, he often pointed out how it’s not him we should feel sorry for, as he’s not going to be suffering anymore. It’s us four kids. It’s my Mum. We’re the ones going to left behind. The refreshingly unvarnished perspective my dad embodied gave me permission to be selfish. It allowed me to ask him for what I needed to feel more at peace with the cards our family had been dealt.

I spent the next six months writing my thoughts and feelings down to my dad. At first, this was purely because I couldn’t say what I wanted to say out loud. I couldn’t vocalise how hard it would be to not have him walk me down the aisle one day or meet his (completely hypothetical) grandchildren. It seemed nonsensical at first to initiate conversations about the fact my Dad had x number of days, weeks, or months to live. However, through writing, we both began to embrace a form of honest and open communication. Alongside the ‘action lists’ I asked my dad to fill in, we wrote poems and letters to each other. With a shared (rather dark) sense of humour, we made light out of a rather morbid situation. In the book, From Prognosis to Peace, I include snippets of conversations we had and poems we shared. Both of which get me through the darkest of days.