Category Archives: Disease and dying

Ya don’t say…

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Having been with Mom, Dad, and Nate at the end of their lives, I’ve learned one thing for sure: people on heavy pain meds are not themselves. All of us wonder what will come out of us in our final days. Dad remained dignified, and Nate was accurate and gracious to the end.

One hilarious motherBut Mom? Absolutely goofy. Her colorful statements were so entertaining, we kept a log at her bedside. She’d been a one-woman-show during her non-medicated life, and her words while drugged (for pain) stayed in line with her character.

Get ready to laugh.

  • Chewing on the hem of her hospital gown she said, “This tastes good, and I like the color. It’s also very nourishing.”
  • To a grandson: “Let’s play funeral. I’ll be the corpse. You be the soloist.”
  • To a sweet visitor: “I can’t wait to get rid of you.”
  • “The most important thing is my conversation with God. He talks out of the Bible, and I talk back.”
  • To me: “Let’s both get in the same bed and start a riot about same sex marriage.”
  • It’d be nice to see my apartment again, but I guess I’d rather go to heaven. I’ll wave down at you.”
  • Looking at our wrinkles: “Do I have strings all up and down my face? Because both Mary and Margaret do.”
  • To a nurse removing her dinner: “Save those leftovers! When I’m in heaven, if the Lord decides not to return to Earth, I’ll have something to feed him.”
  • “Maybe I’ll go to bed now.” We said, “You’re already in bed.” Then she said, “Boy, that was easy.”
  • Son Tom asked: “How do you feel?” She said, “With my hands. How do you feel?”
  • After restlessly working both legs out from under the sheets, she began laughing hysterically We said, “What’s so funny?” She sputtered, “My beautiful legs!”
  • To me: “I wish you a Happy New Year and that you’ll get prettier.”
  • “If I can do anything for you, let me know. I can only do things in my miserable way, but I am the way, the truth and the life.”
  • “It’s nice when parents are just starting out and know that ‘Jesus loves their little children.’ That helps when they don’t know anything.”
  • “Maybe I should change my mind about going to heaven tonight. There’s lots of happy people here, too.”
  • “I served 10 salmon. Put the rest over there. It’s brain food. It’s ok, but not great.”
  • “When I die, just drown the [pet] bird and throw him in the toilet.”
  • Pushing an invisible item around the end of the bed with her foot: “I’m trying to get that muffin over into the corner.”
  • A friend called and said, “Who’s there with you?” She said, “Just Mary and Margaret, if you call them visitors. It’s more like a zoo.”
  • “Today I’m better. I have happiness running out of my lips.”
  • To a visitor: “I’m going to throw up any minute…on you.”
  • Fingering her hospital gown: “I’m going to send this to Joyce. She likes blue and can wallpaper a room with it.”
  • “If I ever wrote a book, it would be about the magnificent mercy of God.”

These are just a few from 26 pages of Mom’s colorful statements. She spoke often of her approaching death but never with uncertainty or fear. One of her last statements while “under the influence” was, “Some stumble, some fall, but if we love Jesus Christ, we all eventually get home.”

She got home 19 days later… but forgot to take her leftovers.

“We would rather be away from these earthly bodies, for then we will be at home with the Lord.” (2 Corinthians 5:8)

Predicting the Future

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I feel like I’m living in a crystal ball and have the ability to predict the future. That’s because I’m thinking about 5 years ago at this time and know what happened next.

On this date, October 20, Nate was two weeks from his death. We all knew the situation was severe, but none of us knew the end would come so soon.

Nate's last birthday.I’ve been reading last year’s blogs, and today we were signing Hospice papers, including the most emotional one, a living will. Our children demonstrated great strength that day when I was feeling weak, stepping forward to sign as witnesses beneath their father’s signature on the document. Could there be any more difficult task in the life of a child?

But surprisingly, in examining the negatives of those days 5 years ago, several striking positives have emerged:

1. First of all, new waves of appreciation for Nate have washed over us. Once someone is gone, all petty grievances disappear. It’s easy to focus on the good, and all of us are wholeheartedly thankful for Nate, without the slightest reservation.

2. The second positive has been fresh gratitude toward God, who repeatedly pulled us out of a sea of sadness and set our feet on solid ground. When everything else was stormy, the Lord kept us calm, and that included Nate. God showed his involvement daily and kept every scriptural promise. He didn’t stop the cancer, but he held us close throughout the ordeal, and does so still.

3. A third positive is becoming aware of the progress over these 5 years. Today we’re all veterans of grief. It was hard work, lasted a long time, and involved plenty of tears. But each of us has increased in our understanding of what it’s like to mourn someone we love. We’ve also learned that the process includes times of well-being and peace, side-by-side with sorrow.

4. Because of our experience in losing Nate, all of us can commiserate with others who’ve lost someone special, which is positive number four. We can say, “I know how you feel” to a hurting friend and mean it.

5. Five years ago, our days were packed with problems, losses, and emergencies. We had no time to process what was happening or think too deeply about it. The demands of each day called for putting one foot in front of the other and getting through “just barely.” Now, because life has regained routine, we have the time to ponder, an important positive.

6. And one more: we have a stronger focus on eternity. Part of the October 20th blog 5 years ago was the detailing of a new strategy: we decided that day to start talking about heaven. I wrote, “The time has come to shine a spotlight on his brightest hope.”

It’s true none of us lives in a crystal ball, but because we know the Lord, we can accurately predict that our separation from Nate is only temporary. The future sees us together again in heaven, and focusing on that is positive indeed.

”I give [my sheep] eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand.” (John 10:28)

Life is for the Living

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photo(1)On Monday of this week Mary endured her last chemo in a series 18 infusions stretching from early-May to mid-October. She is, as she says, “Glad to be done.” Here are her thoughts on this life-altering experience:

When I first learned I had pancreatic cancer last February, I thought I’d be long gone by summer. But here I am, having benefited from a delightful summer and now enjoying the beauty of fall. One thing cancer has taught me is how to fully live in-the-now. God has made hundreds of promises to us, but none guarantees a specific length of days, and though I vaguely knew that before my cancer, now I really get it. Letting go of my future has made me very grateful for today.

Some cancer patients say they feel like a walking time bomb. Others talk about a dark cloud hanging over their heads. My intention is to reject those negatives and find my identity in Christ rather than in cancer statistics or medical opinions.

In my case, surgery and chemo bought me some time, and time is precious. But none of the doctors can say I’m cured, nor have they given me a hope for that. As a matter of fact, the word they’ve used to describe my cancer is “vicious.” So I’m not in denial but am hoping to live somewhere between the extremes of denial and despair. I’m pretty sure that’s where God wants me to be.

Life is for the living, and I want to live each day well. As a result of my cancer, I’m holding tightly to four important principles that I knew before my diagnosis but have experienced in new ways since then. They’ll benefit me for the rest of my life, however long that is:

  1. God’s promises are powerful and true.
  2. God answers prayers.
  3. God provides exactly the strength and endurance needed.
  4. The community of believers is important.

Spending too much time alone isn’t good for any of us, and I’ve learned that the best kind of company is that of encouraging Christians who find their hope in the Lord. If I trust only in myself, my frame of mind quickly spirals downward.

One of my favorite verses is Ephesians 1:18: I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people. I’m thankful God considers me one of his “holy people” and that my inheritance is a glorious one.

Though I should continue making plans, I need to hold them lightly, remembering that life is a series of letting-go’s…. of the calendar, of our possessions, and of our favorite people. Cancer forced me to consider these things up close, and I’m thankful for that.

So, whatever happens from now on, I’m certain God won’t let me die till he says it’s time. And that’s good enough for me.

From the end of the earth I will cry to You, when my heart is overwhelmed; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. (Psalm 61:2)