What would you do if a doctor told you that you only had six months to live? Every time I hear of a patient being handed a 'death sentence', I wonder how I would react in the same situation. I imagine most people believe they would go out and "have a ball", running up their credit cards and doing all the things they had only dreamt of doing. However, I have always suspected that the more likely reaction would be to rather focus on staying healthy and fighting the disease.Well, I met someone facing a life-threatening disease last week. Strangely, we encountered each other in the smoking lounge of the Phuket airport, hardly the most medical environment. A middle-aged Thai man sitting opposite me looked up and asked me: "How much do you weigh?" Before I could even answer, he said: "Do you enjoy sex?" I was startled and wondered if the directness of the questions was because the man was speaking in a second language. Luckily, he never gave me a chance to answer before he launched off into his tale.
He said he had just returned from a trip to the new Venetian Resort in Macau. Describing how you can "go by boat to your room" and how lavish the suites were, he said that he had been gambling heavily recently. The week before he had been at the Genting Resort in Malaysia. "I've been there," I jumped in, but he rambled on about how many women he had bedded, how much he was drinking and what a time he was having. He said he was determined to spend as much of his wealth and enjoy himself as much as he could before he died.
He then pulled up his shirt and showed me a large scar running up his stomach and chest. He told me he had been diagnosed with cancer and had been given six months to live. He had undergone the operation in a bid to get rid of the cancer, but the surgeon found that it had already spread throughout his body. Now there was nothing they could do.
I was wondering how much of this story I could believe when he passed me his business card, explaining that he was the owner of one of the big Thai groups operating on the island. "If you want anything, give me a call," he said, and then ambled off. I was stunned. If it was true, why would he volunteer this information to a complete stranger. Through the glass wall of the smoking room, I saw him joining his family; a middle-aged woman I presumed was his wife and three young women, with two babies. Another man came into the smoking room and, almost bizarrely, pointed out the man who had just left and said: "He's one of the richest men on the island."He and his family were seated in the business class cabin alongside me for our flight to Bangkok and then on to Chiang Mai. I couldn't help watching him and wondering about his life. Before the meal, he swallowed a handful of tablets. Then he insisted that a little girl of about four, probably his granddaughter, sit next to him. She curled up in a ball and fell asleep. He tucked a blanket around her and sat with his arm over her for the rest of the flight. He just sat there, gazing through the window.
On reflection, I guess the man was going through one of the stages that people go through in these situations: one is denial, others are anger and acceptance...I guess he might have been in the denial phase. One thing I do know is that no person is in a position to judge another in a case like this. If gambling away some of his fortune made him happy, so be it. Let him bed-hop and cut a swathe through every casino in Asia if it makes it easier to accept his doctor's verdict.The whole episode gave me cause for reflection. What would I do if I was in the same situation? Go on a mad spending spree? Live it up in the best hotels? Return home to South Africa? Go wild in Thailand? And who would I want to be with? My nearest and dearest? My long-time friends?
Or would I prefer the company of those who know nothing about me? Like this man, would I end telling my story to strangers in airport smoking lounges? I wonder...
