A friend died of luckiemia(sp?) when he was in his teens, it was the third time he had had it. I went with him the once for his bi-annual check-up at the Birmingham childrens hospital, he hated going as he thought it was a waste of time, he had been clear for a good few years. Things were going really well for him at the time as he had just got ingaged to a beautiful girl and had got a job working for Peugeot with his dad. He had only been working there for a while when one day he broke his wrist, sadly this led to him getting luckiemia again. I was beside myself when he told me that the doctors were unable to help him and he didn't have long left. Is was only a matter of weeks before he died after being able to spend his remaining time at home. Anyway, the purpose of this post is to say that after he had told me he was going to die I never had the courage to go and see him. I really wanted to but was just to scared of how I would react infront of him and his family, I only got to say goodbye at his funeral, the first one I ever went to. It's been 16yrs now and it still haunts me to this day that I didn't go and see him, I only hope he understood why and forgives me.
Sorry Phil, you were a great person and true friend. Only the good die young, rest in peace.
Ant