The Perfect Storm

Mom was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer on November 16, 2010.  From the onset we knew she was terminal.  Well, that was the doctor's prognosis.  We believed there was always the Miracle option.  The statistics are grim, but even so, close to 5% of pancreatic cancer patients survive 5 years.  We agreed that would be our Miracle.  Survival.  Living.  Loving.  As long as God deemed fit.

Mom lived 12 months and 3 weeks from the time of her diagnosis. 

Sometime during her fight, she became rather concerned, almost morbidly so, with how this cancer would actually end her life.  I had to remind myself, often, that she's a nurse and with her medical background it was only natural that she would be fixated with the course of the disease.  I am finding out however, that many people who are given a terminal diagnosis wonder the same thing.  Just how exactly is my life going to end?  Will it be painful?  Will I be weak with nausea and vomiting?  Will I know my loved ones right up to the end?  Where will the cancer spread?  How mobile will I be?  Will I be ready for death? What will it be like? Will I know I'm dying?

Morbid questions.  Agreed.  But honest, nonetheless.  Mom even asked her doctor about 3 months ago what he thought about her impending death.  Just how would she die?  Left him speechless for a minute or two, then he quietly looked her in the eye and said, I can answer that.  I held my breath, expecting some horrific description.  A long pause, and then he said, I don't really know... depends on so many variables.

Mom was let down for a day or two.  I think she really wanted to know what to prepare for.  I mean, real specifics.  And there is probably no doctor worth his salt that could predict what mom's last few days would be like.

In our opinion, mom's death was a result of The Perfect Storm.  Not one, not two, but so many events that funneled down together into too few days, laying seige on her precious body.  An assault so detrimental there was no chance of recovery.

Yes, the death certificate says her cause of death was Pancreatic Cancer. 

And I guess that's the truth.   But that's too simple.  What happened to mom's body, the real cause of her death was a culmination of medical crises that simply overwhelmed her weakening reserves.

That Perfect Storm began with the pancreatic cancer.  In treating it, mom fought hard, with radiation and chemotherapy.  The side effects from treatment were brutal on her body.  The chemotherapy continued to knock her blood counts down each cycle.  This last time, the white blood cell count and platelets bottomed out like never before.  With her white blood count so low, her immune system was drastically weakened and she picked up a nasty pneumonia bacteria that infiltrated both lungs in a matter of hours.  And with her platelets so low, that seemingly innocent slip against the coffee table the Saturday after Thanksgiving, caused a horrendous bruise on her hip that turned into a virulent strain of cellulitis within a few days.  The two infections caused a massive strain on mom's body.  Despite 3 potent antibiotics and numerous blood transfusions, her body just couldn't recover.  Her blood glucose began dropping, giving way to heart arrythmias and finally kidney failure.

The Storm lasted 7 days.

Mom now has the answers that her doctors couldn't give her.  I wish she could part the veil just once, and tell us what she experienced as she faced this last walk on her journey.  And then smile once more for us.  My heart is greedy.

I can share what we know.

Was there pain?  Oh yes, there was.  It is one of the hardest memories to endure.  The nurses and doctors increased the morphine almost hourly to keep her comfortable, and I know they succeeded almost completely.  As the doses increased she slept more and more.  It was blissful oblivion, and one of us kept vigil the entire week to make sure she never woke up alone.

Was there nausea? vomiting?  To our everlasting relief, there was none.  As a matter of fact, in the early days of that week, mom's appetite actually returned and she savored desserts with delight.  The last morsel of food that she ate was a brownie delivered by a sweet friend.   So very grateful for these small blessings.

 How mobile was she?  Not very.  The pneumonia made her so weak, and the bruising/cellulitis on her hip was so painful, that moving around wasn't high on her agenda.  As she weakened and the morphine increased, she became bed-bound for the last 4 days.  But she was comfortable there, with a beautiful window view of the sky and front gardens.  The only thing better, would have been to be able to take her home...

Did she know her loved ones up to the end?  An emphatic YES.  Even with the morphine induced slumber, when she woke, she recognized us and spoke specifically, calling us by name.  As death neared, her ability to speak faded, but not the acknowledgement.  She would squeeze our hands and nod her head.  When my brother arrived from Houston, just 18 hours before her death, she smiled in greeting and said, "Oh, you're here."  She sank back into sleep and woke several hours later to smile at him again and say, "I love you."   Yes, she knew us all, right up until the end.  I can't begin to express the myriad of emotions we all experienced.  But the power of her love for each of us kept us connected with her in a way that I will always, always hold close.

Did she know death was near?  I believe she did.  And she was at peace.  We were all a mess, but around her, there was a reverence and acceptance that was unfathomable.  A readiness to lay down this tired body and walk on into the next journey with complete assurance.  We are still all a mess, but the memories we hold of those last days are filled with a calm and a purpose. 

That would be my memory of her passing.  A peacefulness that can't be contained.  It spills over onto our hurting hearts constantly.  I think that would be her message to those following behind.  No matter where the journey has brought you from, the true Miracle is in this passage to where you are going...

That is our miracle.  We can now Hope with Confidence that our paths will cross and join again one day as our journey brings us all to the place of such Peace we can only imagine....