Cancer Diary: How People Spend Their Last Weeks
We only get to die once (well, usually, NDEs aside). How we die can be just as important as how we live. I wish that thought had been top of the mind when Carl was dying; we might have done things differently. It is not, though, that we did not have examples. We did, actually.
Dottie, a dear friend from Massachusetts, had been my secretary when I was in the Army and then opened her house to me and my infant son when, during my later reserve days, the barracks would not allow him in because of his severe breathing issues from which he was in danger of dying nearly every day. (He survived, grew up, and, still with some breathing issues, is living a robust life.) Through all the intervening years, even after I moved to California, Dottie stayed in touch. Then, she got terminal brain cancer. After some initial surgery (and more planned, which, she feared, she would not survive), she decided that she wanted to spend the time she had left visiting all her family, which had spread out across the USA. She included my family in her family, and we were the very last she visited, being all the way on the other coast. I took her to the wharf and the beach for short stints of activity and to a couple of great restaurants, but mostly she wanted to hang out at the house and talk -- and sleep. She would fall asleep on the floor while talking, and I would cover her up. Dottie flew back home a couple of days before her scheduled brain surgery. Sadly, a few hours after her surgery I got a call from her son: she did not make. But, she definitely finished her life in a remarkable way, saying good-bye to everyone who mattered no matter where they were.
Another option was chosen by a lady I read about recently. She decided to have her wake before her death, rather than afterward. She delighted in hearing her own eulogies, and her relatives and friends filled the room with flowers. And so they celebrated.
A young woman I admire simply through her tweets called herself "Widow in waiting" on Twitter (X). She shared heartwarming details of her last days with her husband, who was dying of cancer and spent most of his time in the hospital. They found little ways to make the most of each day. Then, he was gone, but he clearly left her with some lovely memories, including last-days memories that could perhaps propel her past the grief of losing a spouse too soon (all are too soon lost, but this one still had small children).
Carl and I were not as successful in arranging for a memorable pre-death period. We tried to arrange something special for Mondays, the only days without chemotherapy. Yet, somehow, every single Monday for the rest of his life, he was in the ER. How could that be! As for the other days, I am sad to admit, that we let the chemo and medical intervention (well-named) intervene. Now, I wish we had somehow re-focused on something other than the medical aspects which dominated our hours, days, and too few weeks. With there always be something to learn in life, the experiences of Carl's last days have colored my view of the what-and-how of the dying period (unless, of course, I poof out in a big flame somewhere), and I have tasked my subconscious to work on a plan that will make those days as pleasant as possible for all of us. I don't know just what it will be yet (hopefully, I have considerable time to make those plans), but I kinda like what Dottie did, and the wake lady, and the widow in waiting. I think I can make a snuggly quilt out of these three (and perhaps some more) pieces.
I offer these suggestions in the hopes of helping any readers struggle with the final battles find some pleasantness and even excitement in what might otherwise be a dreary process. Having a plan in advance can make sure it does happen!
In making a plan to enjoy the rest of life (i.e. the dying period), Gone from My Sight, written by Barbara Karnes, RN and hospice guru, would have helped had we known about it months in advance, but we did not. My daughter brought it with her from Maryland when she came to spend the last days (turned out to be only ten). The book did help at that point, and I recommend it to everyone facing the final act of life. (There is another volume for pets that is equally helpful.)
For other Cancer Diary posts, click HERE.
Blog editor's note: As a memorial to Carl, and simply because it is truly needed, MSI Press is now hosting a web page, Carl's Cancer Compendium, as a one-stop starting point for all things cancer, to make it easier for those with cancer to find answers to questions that can otherwise take hours to track down on the Internet and/or from professionals. The CCC is expanded and updated weekly. As part of this effort, each week, on Monday, this blog will carry an informative, cancer-related story -- and be open to guest posts: Cancer Diary.
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