Throughout our lives we are continuously a part of cycles. The greatest of these is the cycle of life. Each cycle has various phases. We are in our transitional phase. Everyone experiences this transitional phase; it’s merely differs from person to person, but always filled with emotion. For many it involves children leaving home, going to college, getting married, and grandchildren. The transitional phase is different, but yet the same for everyone, always emotional. Our phase has been primarily exciting.
Amidst all the excitement and the many things to do in order to make our final exit from North Carolina, there has been a situation in our lives that has compounded all of the physical and mental exertion. As stated previously, our projected departure date for months has been September 15; however, that date was chosen prior to a major development. Mick’s step-father, Bob, was diagnosed with cancer on September 21, 2009. Bob was 73 at the time and had never had a colonoscopy. He had colon cancer that had metastases to the liver, lungs, and lymph system. The above picture is of Bob a number of years ago.
Mick’s dad passed at the age of 46 of a massive coronary and died instantly. A few years later, his Mom, Maxine, met and married Robert Warren, a younger man. They were married for more than 30 years prior to Maxine’s passing in 2004. Although Mick and Bob had differences through the years, we continued visiting Bob and actually had a better relationship with him after Maxine’s sudden death.
Bob could be difficult and for him, control of everyone around him was essential. He was extremely strong willed. Through the last 8 months, Mick and I became the primary care givers. Medical issues, doctor visits, medicines, and the like were usually handled by me; whereas, business and legal aspects were dealt with by Mick. Gradually, the one who had always needed to be in control was now being controlled by his illness.
His original oncologist in Winston-Salem had given the prognosis of 3-6 months with the option of no treatment. At Mick’s prodding, he changed oncologists, who did offer one option, Xeloda, an oral chemotherapy, that although palliative, may improve the quality of life. The Xeloda gave him a couple of extra months, with December and January being the best. During those winter months, he was out and about, visiting the neighbors and his lady friend.
When his scans were repeated in March, the tumors were once again growing. The Xeloda was discontinued and acceptance of the inevitable set in. Even without the chemotherapy, nausea continued and grew worse. Fluid buildup in the abdominal cavity progressed. What was originally a procedure called “paracentesis” once every three or four weeks, led to a permanent catheter for the evacuation.
This strong man, with an iron will AND an iron stomach stopped eating, drinking only juices….and beer….and brandy. If you’re dying, you should have what you want, right?
April 28 was his last good day. He was walking well. I took him to get a haircut, along with lunch at the Barbecue Center, and then other errands. That day was also a walk down memory lane for him and I learned things about him that I never knew. He was as much of a pack rat as I. Bob was in the air force back in the ‘50’s and still held on to binders from his two tours, which included being stationed in France. We perused them all. He later drove the golf cart to visit his lady friend (this is out in the country). It was a very good day; the last good day.
Bob began sleeping more and more and experiencing pain. Additionally, he was becoming confused. He couldn’t open the garage with the key pad. Last week, he locked himself out of his bank account because couldn’t remember the password. He began falling. On Wednesday when Mick was there, he was in his power chair in the hallway, kept running into the walls, and did not know where the living room was.
On Wednesday afternoon, he went to Hinkle Hospice House. Yesterday, he slept. Today, he died. I took yesterday off to visit him. The nurse told me early this morning when I called that his breathing had changed during the night, more shallow along with the “death rattle”. Mick said there was nothing that I could do. I went to school and Mick went alone to Lexington, which about 50 miles away and is where he grew up. Later in the morning, with Mick and his step-brother, Michael there, his spirit left.
This is Mick’s first experience with an “illness”. The deaths that have been dealt him have been immediate and unexpected. Death with illness is different; it is processed differently. Death with illness is exhausting. This is my third. You never get used to it, just know what to expect.
For now, our partially furnished house will remain as is. We must deal with Bob’s affairs and complete this part of the cycle. His request was no funeral or other routines of death, only immediate burial. We will take a deep breath and continue. There is much to do. We will close the chapter of Bob and resume our next chapter of moving. The cycle continues. Our cycle continues. It is now feasible for our initial trip to set our Cuenca phase into motion will come in mid to late June and our September 15 deadline will be met.
Bob could be difficult and for him, control of everyone around him was essential. He was extremely strong willed. Through the last 8 months, Mick and I became the primary care givers. Medical issues, doctor visits, medicines, and the like were usually handled by me; whereas, business and legal aspects were dealt with by Mick. Gradually, the one who had always needed to be in control was now being controlled by his illness.
His original oncologist in Winston-Salem had given the prognosis of 3-6 months with the option of no treatment. At Mick’s prodding, he changed oncologists, who did offer one option, Xeloda, an oral chemotherapy, that although palliative, may improve the quality of life. The Xeloda gave him a couple of extra months, with December and January being the best. During those winter months, he was out and about, visiting the neighbors and his lady friend.
When his scans were repeated in March, the tumors were once again growing. The Xeloda was discontinued and acceptance of the inevitable set in. Even without the chemotherapy, nausea continued and grew worse. Fluid buildup in the abdominal cavity progressed. What was originally a procedure called “paracentesis” once every three or four weeks, led to a permanent catheter for the evacuation.
This strong man, with an iron will AND an iron stomach stopped eating, drinking only juices….and beer….and brandy. If you’re dying, you should have what you want, right?
April 28 was his last good day. He was walking well. I took him to get a haircut, along with lunch at the Barbecue Center, and then other errands. That day was also a walk down memory lane for him and I learned things about him that I never knew. He was as much of a pack rat as I. Bob was in the air force back in the ‘50’s and still held on to binders from his two tours, which included being stationed in France. We perused them all. He later drove the golf cart to visit his lady friend (this is out in the country). It was a very good day; the last good day.
Bob began sleeping more and more and experiencing pain. Additionally, he was becoming confused. He couldn’t open the garage with the key pad. Last week, he locked himself out of his bank account because couldn’t remember the password. He began falling. On Wednesday when Mick was there, he was in his power chair in the hallway, kept running into the walls, and did not know where the living room was.
On Wednesday afternoon, he went to Hinkle Hospice House. Yesterday, he slept. Today, he died. I took yesterday off to visit him. The nurse told me early this morning when I called that his breathing had changed during the night, more shallow along with the “death rattle”. Mick said there was nothing that I could do. I went to school and Mick went alone to Lexington, which about 50 miles away and is where he grew up. Later in the morning, with Mick and his step-brother, Michael there, his spirit left.
This is Mick’s first experience with an “illness”. The deaths that have been dealt him have been immediate and unexpected. Death with illness is different; it is processed differently. Death with illness is exhausting. This is my third. You never get used to it, just know what to expect.
For now, our partially furnished house will remain as is. We must deal with Bob’s affairs and complete this part of the cycle. His request was no funeral or other routines of death, only immediate burial. We will take a deep breath and continue. There is much to do. We will close the chapter of Bob and resume our next chapter of moving. The cycle continues. Our cycle continues. It is now feasible for our initial trip to set our Cuenca phase into motion will come in mid to late June and our September 15 deadline will be met.
Until next time,
Mick and Kathy
Sorry for your loss. We have you both in our hearts.
ReplyDeleteOur deepest sympathies. Love to you both and family.
ReplyDelete