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Death straps me to the hospital bed, claws its way onto my chest and sits there.I didn't know it would hurt this much. I didn't know that everything good that's ever happened in my life would be emptied out by it.

Jenny Downham

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Jenny Downham
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: January 1
Actor
Author
Film Actor
Novelist
Writer
Inner and Outer London
Much
Cancer
Emptied
Way
Bed
Claws
Hurt
Sits
Good
Happened
Hospital
Would
Death
Chest
Life
Didn
Chests
Ever
Hospitals
Everything
Onto
Straps

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I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means.
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Nurses never tell you what they know. They're hired for their cheeriness and the thickness of their hair. They need to look alive and healthy, to give the patients something to aim for.
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. . . my bones they'll burn or bury. It'll be my death.
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It's as if a child with a brush and too much enthusiasm has been set free with a tin of black paint inside me.
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No, really. I free you.' I don't want to be free.
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I'm here. Soon I won't be. Zoey's baby is here. Its pulse tick-ticking. Soon it won't be. And when Zoey comes out of that room, having signed on the dotted line, she'll be different. She'll understand what I already know- that death surrounds us all. And it tastes like metal between you teeth.
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Every few years we disappear, Zoey. All our cells are replaced by others. Not a single bit of me is the same as when I was last in this room.
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It hurts and hurts to have him this close. I feel sick with it.
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That slow smile again. I love that smile! DId I think he was ugly just now? No, his face is transformed.
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when I was four I almost fell down the shaft of a tin mine and when I was five the car rolled over on the motorway and when I was seven we went on holiday and the gas ring blew out in the caravan and nobody noticed I've been dying all my life
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Hold my hand. Don't let go.
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If you want a girl to like you, you have to listen like a woman and love like a man.
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Every seven years our bodies change, every cell. Every seven years, we disappear.
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I'm me and you're you, and all of them out there are them. And we're all so different and equally unimportant.
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I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.
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I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.
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You changed the rules of the universe when you fell in love with the enemy.
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Instructions for Adam Look after no one except yourself. Go to university and make lots of friends and get drunk. Forget your door keyes. Laugh. Eat pot-noodles for breakfast. Miss lectures. Be irresponsible.
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If I learnt anything at all about terminal illness in my research, it's that the experience is different for everyone. I do believe that life becomes concentrated when it's boundaried and that death is the biggest boundary of all.
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