MSI Press Blog

This picture goes with maintaining a sense of independence and trying to help out the caregiver, especially when the caregiver is a family member and the cancer patient is still living at home (pre-hospice or on hospice -- although if put on hospice, chances are the patient has progressed to the point of not being able to assist with self-care), like my husband Carl was. Carl's push toward self-care was prompted by an unwillingness to talk about death (link to earlier post) and not wanting to admit that terminally ill (not necessarily good things because we had to scramble after he died to hack his accounts to take care of matters that could have been planned for -- but not just he but we, the whole family, were choosing to focus on life, not death . So, as a tinkerer, he came up with some home adaptations that could be helpful to anyone with reduced and reducing mobility. The picture above is the way in which he used towels to assist himself in getting up from the toilet once bei

Carl frequently complained of being cold during the last two months of living/dying with cancer. Even with the heat at, for me an uncomfortable, 72 degrees (when we typically maintain it at a comfortable 66 degrees). Even when wearing a sweater or even something heavier and smothered in blankets. He was always complaining about being cold, and only after he died did I find out why -- and that he really was very cold because body temperature drops when someone is dying. We were constantly struggling over how to compromise on temperature. My son and I were extremely uncomfortable with the amount of heat Carl would set the thermostat for, as well as having concerns with the cost of the amount of gas needed to keep the house so hot (dying can create immense financial stress -- a topic Cancer Diary will address in the future).  In general, cold registered for me, having grown up in Maine and having spent a few winters in Siberia, pictured above, on a very different scale from the perceptio