Today, I got a phone call. Justus, a friend who has been suffering for some time now has passed away. Much too young. Wrong diagnose and wrong treatment. He leaves his wife he has married half a year ago.
He was diagnosed with a cerebral tumour, got radiotherapy, a first biopsy and chemotherapy. It was never really clear what kind of tumour he had. His father, a doctor himself, managed to ask several experts only to get several diagnoses. About three weeks ago, after much strength, effort and a big fight with the doctors, his wife and his father got the doctors to make a second biopsy. Then it was discovered that he didn't had cancer but tissue inflammation. But at this point it was too late. He was too weak.
I didn't managed to visit him since the last biopsy. I was busy. But I was afraid too.
I feel deeply sad. A friend has passed away and nothing I can do will bring him back.