The disease has moved into its final stages and is now effecting her heart, especially during times of rest. The doctor says that someday soon, her heart will just stop of its own accord -- if she's lucky. If not, then she will probably choke to death due to pneumonia. Could be days, weeks, or, if unlucky, a month or so.
No fumbling words or consolation is wanted, or, indeed, adequate. I don't want to think of your gloomy faces trying to offer consolation or meaning where there is none. I've known many of you -- on or offline -- for years, and before you search for words to say... I know. Thank you.
If you must offer prayers, pray that she passes quickly and peacefully. Wish me, her, and my family happiness, and just keep smiling yourselves. Have a drink, a smoke, a cup of tea, plant something green and full of life or whathaveyou and wish us well and a speedy voyage through this dark time.
... and I wish you well too. Eh companero?
"I can't see you, but I know you're here. I feel it. You've been hanging around since I got here. I wish I could see your face, just look into your eyes and tell you how good it is to be here. Just to touch something... See -- it's cold. I feel good. Here: to smoke, have coffee. And if you do it together it's fantastic. Or, to draw. You know you take a pencil and you make a dark line, then you make a light line, and together it's a good line. Or when your hands are cold and you rub them together. See that's good, that feels good. So many good things. But you're not here... I'm here. I wish you were here. I wish you could talk to me, cause I'm a friend... companero."
- Peter Falk, "Wings of Desire"