{"id":2423,"date":"2026-06-23T16:33:55","date_gmt":"2026-06-23T14:33:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.data-pro.nu\/?p=2423"},"modified":"2026-06-26T14:56:27","modified_gmt":"2026-06-26T12:56:27","slug":"%f0%9f%a9%b5-kankerlicht-mijn-maatje-wist-niet-wat-kanker-was","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.data-pro.nu\/en\/%f0%9f%a9%b5-kankerlicht-mijn-maatje-wist-niet-wat-kanker-was\/","title":{"rendered":"\ud83e\ude75 Cancer Light \u2026. My friend didn't know what cancer was."},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>\u2047 15:33 The bell that no one wants to hear<\/h3>\n

It was a call on Friday afternoon at 15:33. I was just preparing a kwis beer tasting. In a few minutes my afternoon changed from light to heavy. Since then, I've been trying to write down everything that happens. Not to get pity, but to keep my head and heart together. These blogs are my way of understanding, sharing and showing how I deal with them \u2013 sometimes serious, sometimes humorous, but always real.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cLife does not call in advance to ask if it is convenient.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\ud83e\ude76 The dog that looked like the owner<\/h3>\n

My buddy Salke's gone. Born on 20 January 2016 in Bornerbroek, died on 23 June 2026 in Hengelo. Ten years and a little. And the last part was the hardest. The story is very familiar: It happened that a lump in his neck was discovered. Veterinarian's First Conclusion: Swollen lymph node, nothing special. With me, that same kind of bump immediately led to research. It wasn't until Salke stopped eating and drinking. Second conclusion: throat tumor. It turned out to be a case of the dog that was going to look like the owner. Not the other way around. I could be helped. Not Salke. The vet was pretty quick and pretty clear about that.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cThe same disease, two outcomes. Life has no sense of symmetry.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\ud83e\ude76 The Rhetorical Question That Wasn't a Question<\/h3>\n

My throat is slowly moving forward but still feels strange. When I am tired, which happens regularly, the inconvenience becomes great. I can rationalize this: It's going in the right direction, it takes time, it's normal. But a dog can't rationalize. He just feels uncomfortable. Permanent. I briefly wondered if I wanted to do that to Salke: a treatment, a recovery process, sore throat without explanation. That question remained rhetorical, because Salke could not be helped. I didn't even have to ask myself that question. It made it easier and harder at the same time. We stopped him full of prednisone and he stayed with us for a few more weeks. Good weeks, for the most part. But with that constant, dormant fear in the background: Aren't we keeping him too long? Let's make him suffer because we're not done yet?<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cThe most difficult questions are those where the answer is already there, but you don't want to hear it yet.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\"\"<\/a>\ud83e\ude76 There's no good time<\/h3>\n

There's never that moment. Anyone who has ever had to say goodbye to an animal knows that. Yet every day I looked at Salke with suspicion, looking for signs. The decay was slow, almost invisible if you didn't know him. But I knew him. And so I saw it. An appointment was made. And that gave, as strange as it was, peace. There was a date. The painful question no longer had to be asked again every morning. Salke himself did not help, because he kept himself big. As soon as he realized we were watching him, there was nothing wrong. Happy wagging, busy, pulling the rope. The last two days have been hard with Salke.. The cake that a friend of my daughter had baked especially for him and that he had previously almost violently worked inside, remained untouched. Just like Salke. It stayed there, too. Unless there was attention. Because then the owner was suddenly sweet and the owner had to be cuddled and the owner had to play with the rope.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cHe was great to us. The least I could do was the same for him.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\"\"<\/a>\ud83e\ude76 20 kilos on my lap<\/h3>\n

Salke was heavily sedated at first. He leaned against me for support and fell asleep on my lap. I was probably the last thing he felt. That doesn't offer any comfort, but I hope that at that time I was to him what he had been to me so long and so often. All those days when I was sitting on the couch without energy, all those hours when I needed support and he just sat next to me, his big head on my leg. Twenty kilos that thought he belonged to you on your lap. The nervous nervous tendon that could pull on the leash outside to despair, but indoors was the quietest dog in the world. The frightened one who barked at guests for twenty minutes and then crawled on their laps. The never grumpy Salke, who stood next to me when I made coffee, with his wide gray that clearly said: \u2018These dog treats in the closet, what do you think?\u2019<\/em> Who conjured up every trick he had ever learned as soon as he heard the sound of a cardboard box. My buddy, who was under my desk on my feet when I was working.<\/p>\n

\n

\u201cA dog does not know what cancer is. He only knows who his owner is.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\n

\u2047 For now<\/h3>\n

On his last selfie, the sadness is already on my face. Salke looks happy and cheerful into the world. That actually says it all. I'm gonna miss him. I miss him already. And my recovery continues, and my throat sometimes hurts, and I'm going to make coffee and then there's no one next to me who asks me if I've also thought about the dog treats. That's a small, stupid detail. And yet, it's just that kind of little, silly detail that's destroying you.<\/p>\n

\n

\u2018Heaviness may have light. And sometimes the lightest weighs the heaviest.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

In Memoriam
\nSalke Veijer<\/h1>\n

20-1-2006, Bornebroek, 23-6-2026 Hengelo.<\/h1>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

https:\/\/www.data-pro.nu\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/signal-2026-06-23-161704.mp4<\/a><\/video><\/div>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u2047 15:33 The bell no one wants to hear It was a call on Friday afternoon at 15:33. I was just preparing a kwis beer tasting. In a few minutes my afternoon changed from light to heavy. Since then, I've been trying to write down everything that happens. Not to feel sorry, but to 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