The Other Side of Life...

Susan & her sister Mo

Over a year ago my step-mom was diagnosed with a GBM-4 brain tumor in its most advanced stage.  We were given a "time frame" of what we could expect and wholeheartedly pursued treatment and recovery with the highest hopes but also with realistic expectations.  Following surgery, rehab, therapy, and multiple chemo/radiation treatments we were struggling to feel optimistic about a better outcome.  Her doctors consulted with Duke University and they decided on a different method of treatment. After the first two treatments there was noticeable improvement in her speech and stability but by the 3rd treatment those improvements had plateaued.  

She and my dad had planned a trip to Florida/Alabama to visit with family and life-long friends and were able to stay for an extended visit. Upon returning things began to change.  She lost her appetite, became lethargic, and began to refuse medications.  After about a week, she was spending the majority of her day in bed, had extreme right-sided weakness, and was only managing to take sips of liquids and a few bites of soft food.  This went on for about a week, Hospice was brought in, and the family was prepared to expect a very limited amount of time with her.  

Her brother and sister were able to come and visit with her over this past weekend and during that time she seemed to become a little more stable. She was able to spend time in her recliner with us in the living room but was asleep for 95% of the time.  At this time, she is unable to walk, has very little intake of foods or liquids, and has extreme difficulty communicating.  

Susan's high school friends

I write all of this because I've realized there is a very distinct difference between death and dying. Before all of this, I don't think I would have felt it so intensely but it has been a concept that I've had to deal with over the last week.  Death is a place, a very final destination...Dying is an action, a process.

This process is something that I've not been very confident about...questioning what I would want (not that I have any control over it anyways).  Sitting and watching someone go through this, waiting for that moment when there isn't another breath, it's mind-numbing and contradictory.  She made it clear very early on that the quality of her life was more important than the length of it, and if it came to the point where she wasn't able to live the life she wanted, she was prepared to leave it behind.  Knowing her, you understand that about her. What's hard is watching her endure this part of the process, wishing she didn't have to continue, wanting it to go quickly and painlessly because you know this isn't the way she wanted things to be.  

And then you stop... you think about that moment, knowing that when it happens you can't go back and change it.  This one thought has made me very intentional in my interactions with her.  We hold her hand, tell her we love her, we try to comfort her and keep her comfortable, and we hope that we're able to meet her needs even though she can't express them.  Sometimes those frustrations are very evident in her face, in her sighs, or even in the few words she does manage to speak...THAT is what hurts; not really knowing what to do for her.

Susan & my Dad

So what do you do? There's not enough knowledge inside of someone to inherently understand or handle death.  This is where my faith, believing that there is a God much bigger and more knowledgeable, takes over.  People live out their faith in different ways. Some are very outspoken, speaking their minds and sharing their beliefs.  Others are more quiet, living life and believing their faith will speak for itself; this is how I would characterize my faith. Having someone to lean on in the tough times makes them more bearable.  How much more comforting is it to know that the God of the universe is intently watching, walking with us (carrying us when we can't), sharing our tears, and holding outstretched arms when we need more than His hand.  

I write these words more out of necessity for my own comfort but I hope that you, whoever you are, know this same God...the One who made you, knows you, and loves you.  We all have to face the tough times, sometimes with others, sometimes on our own, but never alone. NEVER alone.  If you need encouragement, prayer, or even just a listening ear... I am here