Thursday Night

Thursday I left work a little anxious about the evening events to come. I dashed home, spent some time with my boys and husband, and then left for Kim's house. I had one stop to make....the department store. I walked in and found two pairs of cute slippers. One matched her robe perfectly and the other were super squishy. I could not decide between the two, so I bought both. I walked to my car and realized I was by one of her favorite little restaurants. I called her and asked if she would like anything. I went there and said, "One black cherry smoothie to go please" :) I snagged a cheese danish and some chocolate chip cookies too...just in case.

I hurried to where I would meet the lady who was to do the manicure and pedicure. Once we both got there, I explained that Kim has a dry sense of humor and is not a wilting flower so to speak about the fact that she is dying. She is realistic and faces it head on. I guess when you have been told for more than 18 months that you are dying the novelty of it kind of wears off.

She followed me to Kim's house and I had to consciously stop and take a deep breath. I grabbed all my goodies and we headed to the front door. I was actually surprised at how good Kim looked compared to the last time I saw her. Her eyebrows were growing back, as well as her eyelashes. I smiled. She can do butterfly kisses with her daughters again like she mentioned once before. She had about a half inch of hair grown back, but it was hiding underneath her hat. I noticed her black bag with clear tubing coming out and running up under the neck of her tshirt-her morphine pump constantly feeding her pain medication.

I showed her the slippers. She really liked the pair that matched her robe! The other ones were a hit too. I said, "Keep them both."

Kris set straight away to doing Kim's manicure and pedicure. I was rather impressed at all of the products and such that she brought with...even a foot bath! Excellent! I had told Kris before we got to Kim's house that I would gladly pay her money for her services. She said, "Absolutely not." I was delighted to see that all three of us were able to talk and enjoy each other's company. We talked about so many things it was hard to remember the specifics. I suppose it doesn't matter. The fact that we were all doing something rather normal, I suspect, was refreshing for Kim. In all, Kris spent just over two hours donating her services. Kim said, "I have never been a girly girl, but I have always loved getting my toes and nails done. It is the only part of my appearance that I even care about anymore." She explained that she has lost feeling and strength to some degree in her hands so she cannot cut her own fingernails anymore.

When Kris was done, Kim thanked her and gave her a hug. Kris offered to come back in two to three weeks to do it all again. Kim said she may be at her home, she may be at the hospice facility. Kris said, either place was fine. I think it is impossible to put a price on dignity, especially for someone who in the process of dying. This small offering of doing a manicure/pedicure is incredibly precious. I do not even know what would be a fair monetary compensation to Kris. I am so grateful for her kindness to my friend.

I helped Kris load up her car and gave her a hug, thanked her. I walked back into the house, again reminding myself to stop and breathe. I anticipated she would want to go to bed, which was fine...she looked awfully tired. To my surprise, she asked me if I wanted a cup of hot chocolate. "Regular or dark chocolate?" she asked. "Dark." I replied.

We began talking about the normal day to day stuff. She showed me her hospice supplies that the nurse left, her special air mattress, some of her wedding pictures, books she was reading. I don't remember how we got to talking about it, but she telling me about how she gets so tired of people acting like they have to be strong around her, not talk about the fact that she is dying. She wonders if her daughters will remember her as they grow up, will other people forget about her. I asked her, "can I tell you how I feel about you dying?" She said, "Sure."

I wanted to let all my emotion out, but I did not want her to feel like she had to support me. I had to stop and gather my thoughts. Kim said "Go ahead...I am listening."

I said through a shaky voice, "I don't understand why you have to go and I have to stay. Why do I get to stay and raise my babies and you don't? It pisses me off....it is not fair."

K: "Cancer isn't fair."
Me: "I know it isn't. And I could get in my car, drive home, and a drunk driver could slam into me and I am gone. No one knows when there time is up."
K: "Very true."
Me: "I am sad that you are leaving, but honestly...I am happy for you that you won't be in pain anymore and have to deal with this. You will be in heaven."
K: "Yes...I will see my dad, my Grandpa...they say that you are your ideal self when you get to heaven...perfect health." She lingered on that thought for a brief moment.

We talked for almost two hours about life, death, not having enough time in this life, struggles she has with her daughters and her dying. One thing that left me reeling is that someone has actually said to her that "Other people have it worse." HOW MUCH WORSE DOES IT GET?? SERIOUSLY??

I could tell she was rather tired, but we kept finding new things to talk about.
I asked if there was anything she needed or wanted. She said, "I don't need anything. I am dying. Besides, anything I get is just one more thing my mom has to give away once I die. I can't do that to her. I have already written out a will for things I have left and who gets what. My mom knows she can throw out my robe with cigarette burns in it." She laughed a little. It never dawned on me to think of this. I said, "Well, if there is anything you can think of at all, please let me know. Even if it something as simple as slippers." She smiled.

Finally, I said, "You need to get some sleep, my dear." We said our goodbyes, I told her "I love you," and headed out for the night.

I am sure we will get together again...I just have to remember to breathe.

A Pair of Slippers

Tomorrow will be a tremendous day for me. I am going by Kim (my friend dying of cancer--I am not sure if I ever mentioned her name before). I am not sure if this will be the last time I see her or not. She is no longer able to go out of the house. Her feet are swollen to the point that she can not wear shoes anymore, and the physical effort it takes for her to go out into the world is too much. I am only guessing, but I suspect this is a sign of her heart failing.

I have a lady lined up to give her a manicure and pedicure. I will owe this woman a tremendous thank you. Kim told me she really wants a new pair of slippers but can not get out to buy them. I told her I would be happy to stop and get her a pair. Too bad I can't find some pretend rubies to sew on! Then she could have ruby slippers!

The one thing that always makes me nervous about visits with Kim is that I have no idea what to say. Our visits seem to take on their own flow so I assume this one will as well. The apparent physical decline is always astonishing. Cancer shows no mercy when ravaging the body. It can be hard for me to keep my reaction hidden, even as a nurse who has seen many, many sick people. This is not the hardest part...not even close. It comes when I leave...what in the world do I say??

When I was a nurse on a cardiology floor, we had what we called frequent flyer patients. Some of them I grew very close to over the years. One time, a patient of mine was leaving for a hospice facility...she would never return. Not knowing what I should say, I said the only thing that came to my mind, "Could you put in a good word for me with the Big Guy upstairs?" She smiled and said, "Absolutely." This situation is obviously a little different. I know that I want to tell her that I love her, will miss her, and will never forget her. I do not think I will be able to say that out without falling apart...I can not do that to her. The last thing she needs is to emotionally support me. Maybe I will write her a short letter to read.

I am sure that the visit will be over all to quickly for me. I keep trying to remind myself that what time she has left is all about her. I cannot make it about me. There will be plenty of time for me to grieve after she is gone. Now, she needs to be the focus of attention. Hopefully my effors to address those needs provides her with some level of enjoyment.

30 days

This is the amount of time my friend has left in this world based on her symptoms and increase in pain. She is now on a morphine pump. The oral medications just were not covering her pain anymore. Just to put this into perspective, when I was a nurse on the cardiac floor, I could usually give a patient with chest pain 1-2mg morphine every 2-4 hours as needed. I almost never gave it more than once. My friend was taking 120mg of morphine orally, twice daily with oxycotin 80mg immediate release as needed. That amount of narcotics could kill a horse...no joke. And it doesn't even address her pain adequately anymore. The amount of narcotics she needs to not feel pain, or at least be comfortable, may kill her if the cancer doesn't first. It is just a race now to see which one will take her first.

Mercy...I have been thinking about that word for days. What does it mean in my friend's situation? Is her God given mercy death? I have no doubt that God will take her into heaven...free from a cancer ridden body that would never be able to defeat its enemy. That must be the mercy he will show her.

We were supposed to go the spa next Saturday to get manicures and pedicures together. She is not able to go anymore, so I found someone to go to her. If there is anything on this earth that I can do for her, I am going to do it. I can't help but feel cheated again out of time with my friend. She didn't get to meet my boys, and we don't get to spend those hours together just being girls. No one has to tell me...I know I am being selfish again. And yet, I can't help but feel what I do.

I find myself asking so many questions...why does she have to go? why do I have to stay? Why do I get to stay and raise my children and she does not? Why do her children have to grow up without their mother? I hope that some day this will all become clear to me.

I want to go outside and scream at God...release an emotional overload onto Him..let him carry my pain. I am reminded of the saying Footprints. God, will you carry me through this? I am just not strong enough. My sadness feels like it is suffocating my heart...it makes it hard to breathe, my chest hurts, and my eyes burn from crying.