a letter to an old friend

I know I wrote some time back, not sure about the following though. (Figure since you are a long way from home, you may like a letter, regardless of its tone)

Last year my mom's cancer got pretty bad, at Jen's graduation she almost had a heartattack from complications due to the cancer spreading the the chest wall. The oral chemo she was on for 8 months prior to that was considered ineffective at that time and after 5 days in ICU she was discharged and put on I.V. chemo. Previously the typical problems with chemo occurred, nausea, appetite loss, bed ridden, etc. The new chemo changed everything. Sal got up and started living a bit more. we had a wonderful summer. I was really busy at work, scott was in town and living with her for a month and when he was not around I was cleaning up for him and her. It was an amazing time, I spent little time for myself and with Jen's multiple foot surgeries was ready to take up a career in nursing.

Unfortunately, at the beginning of fall mom started complaining of "weakness" in her legs. I thought it was diet related and she needed to walk more. She had confined herself to her bed, basically, and was only really getting out for dr. appts. I was, however, diligently cooking solid meals for her almost daily and with her daily aide, was getting the nutrition she needed. We mentioned her weakness to the dr, maybe too late. Turned out she had brain cancer at this point. Stubborn as all get-up she decided to continue all of her treatments and while the rest of us were wanting her to go into hospice, she wanted more from life. See, to her, the idea of hospice meant giving up on life. In hind sight, it means embracing whatever life she had left and being treated fairly and lovingly by the pros.

Needless to say she began whole cranium radiation treatments that had nasty and very fast acting side effects. I had not been working for a couple weeks at this point when she started exhibiting the first sign of change, she stopped watching tv. She would just stare into the sky out her apartment window. Then the next change occurred, tonic seizures. It was simply the most heart wrenching time of my life. After the worst one at home, I carried her out her door, down the elevator, the stairs, and into my car and we went to the hospital. The ER staff thought I was full of shit and were trying to send her home. After hours in the ER, my Aunt, Jen and I insisted to a new shift dr. that she be admitted. After infiltrating her arm with a bad IV on some really nasty medication, she finally seized in the er. Seems the seizures were pain related and headaches were the trigger. This time, the bad IV did it. Finally we got her admitted. Whatever they OD'd her on kept her unconcious for nearly 2 days and the hospital was trying their hardest to send her home. I fought and fought planning, admissions, nurses, and fired a doctor. I refused to take her home.

The morning of the fourth day, friends and family were arriving as I notified them of her seriously worsening condition, Roger showed up at 7am, before anyone else was there that saturday and got to talk to her and listen as she spoke with him of Scott and I and him. He told her that she was beautiful and wonderful for raising two lovely and amazing men. That we were able to live on and take care of each other and thrive and that maybe it was time for her to stop fighting and trying to cure herself and go to hospice. (must have been really hard for him to say those things and then admit to me later that he had that conversation with her)

We passed him in the parking lot as he left. As Jen, Scott and I entered the room, she told us quite simply, "I want to die." It was the first time that I lost my wits. I fell to my knees in the most heart-ached and saddened moment in my life as I listened to her tell Scott of her decision and of her love for us and readiness to move on. All of the decisions from that point were quite simple to make. We notified San Diego Hospice and the following morning were given a room in the Hillcrest facility. Just 10 blocks from my house, I spent all my days by her side, reading, listening to music, telling her about the birds and the weather, the meals we would eat and the friends we shared and loved. Every morning my aunt would call from england and take her on "walks" through her home village in england and remind her of silly things they did as kids and family and friends they adored. It was magical. After 8 days in hospice, incapable of eating and refusing resuscitative care, she died very peacefully as Jen and I slept by her side.

We held a HUGE party in her honor after a modest memorial service. It was a gorgeous sunny day, the MarDels played and we danced and sang in memory of her love and beauty.

--

It has been six months since then. This is the first I have written of it in that time. Jen and I took some time off. We traveled throughout Europe for 2 months and had a lovely memorial in England and scattered her ashes on a family field on Christmas morning. I recently just started back up to work and am trying hard to remember some of the lessons I learned about taking time to enjoy life as it surrounds us.

I hope you are keeping well and that I see you in the future.

Take good care of yourself.

Love,

--Jim