Hospice

Today we meet with the hospice people. I had heard this term, "hospice" throughout my life, and always it has been connected with someone in the last stages of cancer, preparing to die. These were the people called in to help and support the family and patient as they near the end. And here we are. This is why we are meeting with hospice today.

It has been a bit of a surreal week. I took my mother to her oncologist appointment on Tuesday. Rather than re-write it all, I've attached the note that we sent out to her friends and other extended family members.

As you know, Mom's health has been declining steadily, but more noticeably and at a much more rapid rate since October/November. She has had increasing mental confusion, jaundice and increasing weakness and fatigue. As we suspected, and have had confirmed by her oncologist, these are all symptoms of failing liver function due to her cancer.

Today Mom saw her oncologist. In preparation, we had been covering this appointment in prayer and the Lord was so faithful, as He has continued to be through every step of this journey. We have been praying for very direct guidance from the Lord and answers to many questions that not only we have had, but that you have had as well.

Dr. O, her oncologist, confirmed that Mom's chemotherapy is no longer being of any help and that it is time to consider "quality" of life and how she chooses to spend the time she has left. Without hesitation, she confirmed that Mom is dying and will not recover from this. There are no other treatment options for Mom, and even if there were, she is so weak, she couldn't handle them. The doctor said, based on observation, lab work, symptoms, etc., she feels Mom has a relatively short time left, and posed the possibility of maybe 2 months--maybe more, maybe less. At any rate, she said now is the time for Mom to not leave anything undone, and do anything she still wants to do.

Dr. O let Mom know that at this point, it is important we begin work with hospice. She (the doctor) had them call me immediately after the office visit to arrange a meeting with Mom and us kids. A meeting is set for this weekend with them. At that time, we will continue to discuss Mom's wishes, confirm some plans that we've been discussing and firm up some arrangements that we have been discussing for the past month with Mom. This is a true answer to prayer for us as we continue caring for Mom.

One of the greatest blessings of this meeting was how it affected Mom. The first praise is that she was very mentally "present" and seemed to be engaged and understand everything the doctor was saying and discussing. There was such an overwhelming absence of fear or anxiety on Mom's part, but rather a definite presence of peace and even visible relief. As you know, Mom has really disliked going to chemo, or even the doctor for that matter, so being given the word that she didn't have to do chemo anymore was a huge joy to her. Really, she smiled and told that doctor that she was so pleased! Secondly, she felt a huge weight had been lifted having her doctor concur with her primary care physician, that she could be in control of how she wanted to do things from here on out. She so doesn't want to let anyone down, or disregard any one's input because she knows everyone cares about her and only wants the best for her, but she was needing to have permission to have control of her health and spend these last days as she wants. As she put it, she feels "let out of school" and is enjoying the idea that she can do whatever she wants.

When I left mom today, she was in really good spirits, better than I've seen in weeks. She feels at peace about dying, feels like all anxiety and stress is gone (because she doesn't have to go to the doctor anymore, or have chemo or even take any medication for that matter) and she feels free to leave her family and friends and go to Heaven when Jesus calls her. She really doesn't feel that there is anything holding her here and would much rather be healthy and whole in Heaven, then sick and unable to do anything here in this life. We sure can't blame her. We've assured her that we will all be fine, as will her grand kids and that before too long, we'll be joining her too!

It does our heart good to see her at this place as I know it will be encouraging to you, although hard at the thought of losing a friend. We know all of us will have to go through the grieving process as we will all miss her deeply.

So here we are preparing for the meeting with the social worker and nurse. It just seems odd. This process is an odd process. On one level there are so many details and business matters to take care of, with a "to do" list of items that seems to be growing, that it is easy to disconnect emotions and approach things very much like a project with items to complete.

On another level, are the wide range of emotions; emotions of seeing mom decline, not recognizing this frail and thin woman, really not familiar with this person as she is not someone I've known before. She doesn't seem to be the same woman who gave birth to me, who I argued with during my teens years, or the singer/actress I knew at one time, but rather some woman who looks a little familiar, sounds familiar, yet isn't the woman I've known all these years. Never looking her age, she now looks well beyond her 70 years, looks like a little old woman and reminds me of my grandmother.

Another layer of emotions to be reckoned with are those that are associated with the expressions of loss that others share with us. As I talk with Mom's friends and other extended family members, it becomes more real. Don't get me wrong, we (we kids) are not in denial; if anything I think we are more in touch with reality than her friends because we're closer to the situation. No, what gets to me is that "thing" that tugs at my insides when I see others hurting, it causes my heart to hurt more because I know that this is wide reaching--not just affecting the small inner circle--and I'm unable to ease their pain.

Hearing from Mom's friends has been a trial on one hand, but this week, in many ways, it has been a blessing. I received many emails from old family friends and former church family members. My mother still attends the church that I grew up in. My husband and I attended this church up until about 12 years ago, so we are still very connected to many at this church that we called home for so many years.

One email in particular really got to me. It was from a woman who knew my parents when they first got married. They were in the "young marrieds" class together--a class that is still together at the church. In the note, the woman, Karen, made mention of things coming full circle...how she remembers my parents from those early years, remembers each of us children as pre-schoolers, remembers when our father died and how they loved him deeply, they attended our weddings, etc... and now here they are preparing to lose Mom and missing her. There is just something comforting and reassuring about being in touch with people who really have known you from "the beginning" and have shared in the sorrows and joys of those years.

I mentioned my dad. I've been having more thoughts of him recently too. He had died suddenly from a heart attack so his death came without warning, unlike my mother's. I have lived longer without a father than with one, yet I can so clearly remember the day he died and how mom told each of us. As I jumped out of my friend's car, wearing my J.V. rally uniform that sophomore year, I can still see my mother standing at the front door....

It seemed like such a "normal" day.

I guess that is it. Death isn't "normal" and no matter how many times one encounters it--and I've encountered it plenty--no matter how many different ways it shows itself, there is something deep inside that just says, 'this isn't how it is supposed to be'. There is nothing good about death. Clearly it is the result of the fall of man. No "up" side to this beast. Sure, there is hope and assurance of Heaven for those who proclaim Christ as Savior, but really, the reward is for the person who dies...there are still many left grieving and missing the presence of that person. One can console oneself with the hope that we have, which is true and, definitely we experience a peace 'that passes understanding', but there is also the reality that we have to walk through this--no getting around it--and God doesn't say he'll take us out of it, or rescue us from it...He'll walk with us through it.

It still isn't easy. It's messy. And every morning, for a brief moment before the reality of life settles in and I'm still in that quasi-sleepy state, I entertain the luxury of thinking my day ahead is mine to do with as I please, musing to myself, "hm, what should I do today?"

Today as reality settled in, I realized it was hospice day.