What none of us even wanted to whisper, what all of us avoided to think of in the past week after Ana’s leukemia returned, came true early Sunday morning. Ana died in her hospital room at the KBC “Zagreb” Rebro, at the age of 29.
Nothing new, we would say, in the eternal battle between life and death. Nothing unusual for the human life, so powerful and yet so vulnerable and spendable. However, the problem with these odious medical explanations is they reveal absolutely nothing about the person whose death is dissected so coldly and analytically. We cannot know from medical history what this patient was like, what he had wanted, what he had dreamed about, what he was fighting for, what he was striving for…
Luckily, Ana Rukavina invested her life in excluding the unknown parameters from her case. She was a wide-open book, in sickness and in health. All of us who knew her as a healthy person, were aware she was speaking from her soul. I never felt any holdbacks in her words, not even between the lines, simply because Ana never had a “drag”. She valued the truth above everything.
She proved it with her letter that she wrote to a couple of her friends, in spite of her grave illness. The letter prompted a totally unplanned media eruption; the whole state experienced the same as all of Ana’s friends and acquaintances. She won people over with her sincerity.
It just happened that Ana called me from the hospital on Saturday, 4 p.m. She sounded terribly worn-out; her speech was slowed down by the morphine she asked to alleviate pain. It was very hard listening to her. “Don’t worry, pal, it’s nothing much. Tell everyone I’m OK and not to worry. I’ll call you tomorrow”.
I shortly returned her goodbyes because I didn’t want to deprive her of a second of her rest, but hell gave me no rest so I thought in panic as I was hanging up: “Oh God, what if I never hear her again?” Twelve hours later Ana’s organs “failed”.
Having experienced cancer and leukemia on an oncology ward in my youth, I’m accepting the death of my close and ill persons with miraculous peace. Still, Ana’s death shook me so much I don’t even dream of crying. I could scream…
Yes, her organs might have failed, but this is exactly why our readiness and humanity in persevering mustn’t fail, because she persevered so long, fearlessly and with a smile. In memory of Ana who “wanted to live”, let’s support life of all of those she advocated for with her letter.
Yes, se might not be with us physically, but we shouldn’t allow her last wish to expire with her body.
Ana, call me whenever you want.
(VJESNIK, November 27th, 2006)
Antun Krešimir Buterin