Alan Sullivan’s final hours

After a number of false alarms, unexpected reprieves and surprising comebacks, it appears that blogger Alan Sullivan’s battle with cancer is — for real this time — rapidly nearing its end.

Alan has been in the hospital since June 21, and has been in “grave” condition for more than a week, in the aftermath of his June 25 surgery. He has not blogged or commented on his blog since June 30. But his “rare readers,” myself included, have kept constant vigil on his site, posting get-well wishes and wistful remembrances and poetry, and eagerly digesting and responding to the occasional updates from several commenters who are in direct contact with Alan and his medical providers. And while it’s been a roller-coaster ride, there have been occasional flickers of hope and hints of progress.

This morning, however, the news is not good, and has a strong note of finality to it:

Steve and Tim have conferred with Dr. D. this morning. He told them that there is little hope of Alan ever communicating again. Accordingly, they directed Dr. D. to discontinue “heroic measures.” Father Tom is going up to the hospital to bestow a final blessing.

Our ideological differences notwithstanding, Alan is a great talent, a deep and provocative thinker, and one of my very favorite bloggers. His passing will be a sad loss for the blogosphere. I won’t say “rest in peace” yet, because he is not yet resting. But I will say farewell, and offer one final Lord of the Rings quote in honor of a fellow Tolkien nut — and avid sailor:

And the ship went out into the High Sea and passed into the West, until at last on a night of rain Frodo smelled a sweet fragrance on the air and heard the sound of singing that came over the water. And then it seemed to him that as in his dream in the house of Bombadil, the grey rain-curtain turned all to silver glass and was rolled back, and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.

UPDATE: Alan’s partner, Tim Murphy, commented at 1:25 PM Eastern:

Today I ordered Alan’s life support withdrawn. I fulfilled his written wishes. I hope following seas and flying fishes accompany his journey, that dolphins sport about his bow, and that the evening star halt in its course to guide him from afar past the Bewildering Rocks and Elvish fort that guard the harbor of the Blessèd Isle where mariners behold their Savior’s smile.