MSI Press Blog

  from treatment and recovery systems Many of the decisions that that Carl made in the last few months of his cancer-riddled life were completely irrational. In some cases, I did not know enough about the situations to know that they were irrational; they did not seem right, but the contractors went along with Carl. After all, he was paying, so it was his decision even if irrational.  Examples?  He had the sump pump behind the house removed and the area filled with concrete. During the first tremendous rains -- California's 2023 crazy storm season -- we ended up with a backyard swimming pool. The plumber reinstalled the sump pump.  He set up three generators (one probably would have done) powered by a wind turbine (we do have a lot of wind here) to maintain electricity if the power went out for a long period of time. Yes, we are on top of an earthquake fault, but we had not lost power for more than a couple of hours -- ever. And have not lost it at all since. To powe...

  Today would have been the 54th anniversary for Carl  and me. Last year, I spent it in the cemetery with Carl, as I did the year before. This year I cannot because I am in Bandung, Indonesia, but perhaps that is just as well.  On our 51st, he was alive, but not well. Three weeks earlier, he had fallen, been xrayed, and found to be in the advanced stage of cancer of unknown primary , with liver, lungs, bones, and stomach completely riddled with cancer cells, blood clots in his lungs, and his bones throwing off cells to create hypercalcemia, the reason he had fallen. It was a difficult time. We were just coming out of the covid months. We brought our CHARGE Syndrome son CB who had been living in group homes for 20 years home when they were not careful with protection from covid. At the same time, our spina bifida daughter, who lives about 30 miles to the south of us, independently, with a county-provided part-time aide lost her caregiver to surgery and no one wanted to tak...

  Earlier, I wrote about the two paths that erupted in front us when faced with a late-stage cancer diagnosis: to focus on living or to focus on dying. There are so many problems and so much confusion when told after a fall or a blood test or something else that seems otherwise innocuous that your loved one has advanced stage 4 cancer.  The worst thing about a late-stage diagnosis is time, or the lack thereof. Not just the time left for a cancer victim to live, but the time available to make decisions.  The first decision--to treat or go on hospice --is a significant one, and there is often no time to really think in through. From my own experience with more than one relative diagnosed with more than one kind of cancer at an advanced stage, there is an automatic, nearly instinctive choice made, not a reasoned one. Got insurance? Treat the cancer. Don't have insurance? Don't treat the cancer. Those are clearly not the most logical or even medically best or viable criteria...

  Carl died of cancer. That much is true, and terrible, and simple on the surface. But the story is more complex than a single disease. COVID-19 didn’t cause Carl’s cancer—but it surely made his path to diagnosis, care, and support harder. It distorted the shape of the last chapter of his life in ways that were subtle, cumulative, and unforgivable. Carl’s cancer was diagnosed late. How late, we’ll never know. But we do know this: in the early months of the pandemic, Carl’s doctor wasn’t seeing patients in person. Like many, he was doing only virtual visits. So when Carl started losing weight—quickly, inexplicably—it was easy to dismiss it as something positive. Carl himself believed it was a good thing. He looked thinner, healthier even, after years of carrying extra pounds. In a regular year, a doctor might have seen the warning signs: how the weight was distributed, how Carl moved, how he looked close up. Maybe they would have ordered tests earlier. Maybe they would have caught i...

  Looking back on Carl's cancer, our cats' cancers, and cancers among friends and family, we should have seen the signs, which would have led to better decisions and, likely, better outcomes. But they were small changes, slow changes that we got used to gradually without thinking back to what things used to be like.  One day, Carl forgot where the brake on the car was and pushed the gas pedal instead. Scary! Could happen to anyone, right? That was a few months before his late stage 4 metastatic cancer diagnosis, with hypercalcemia (which really messes up the brain). A small sign, but we missed it. His growing tendence to leave dishes to do until the next morning of plants to water the next day. Lazy, right? That started maybe a year out before the cancer diagnosis, likely about the time his organs were being attacked and overwhelming his immune system -- and likely his energy. A small sign, but we missed it. There were more. If we even noticed them, we dismissed them all as...

  The Financial Aspects of Dying: Responsibilities, Expenses, and Emotional Decisions Facing the end of life brings a unique set of emotional and financial challenges. For many, managing expenses during this time can become overwhelming, as the responsibilities of ensuring comfort and care often clash with the reality of dwindling resources. The emotional weight of this period can lead to decisions that, though comforting in the moment, may not always be financially logical. Understanding the costs and responsibilities involved in this stage of life is essential for navigating it with clarity. One of the first financial responsibilities is the cost of adapting a home to accommodate the needs of a person who is ill or elderly. These adaptations can range from simple, affordable fixes—like purchasing a towel for extra grip—to more expensive, long-term investments such as a chair lift. A towel, for example, might be used cleverly to help someone pull themselves up from a seated positi...