The Next to the Last Chapter

I fear I may have given an overly optimistic impression in my post of a week ago (Call it a Chanukkah Blessing). If so, I apologize. While what I said was true...Bettie was better. Perhaps I should have made it perfectly clear that she was only better than the previous week, not better as in all better, or in remission, or what ever other term one might use to explain a dramatic improvement.

Given the oncologists prognosis: "she has weeks" which was given just over six weeks ago, the "better" signs we saw last week did seem encouraging. After all, she was supposed to be...well, you know. In fact, in a phone conversation with the hospice nurse yesterday, she told me that Bettie would have died weeks ago, had it not been for the excellent care, love, and support she is getting here at home with family. She had especially high praise for our son Rick, who simply cannot do too much in his care of "Mom".

But the primary purpose of the nurse's call, was not about Bettie but about me. She wanted to make sure I understood how things were. I told her that I realized what is happening and that, baring a miracle, I expect Bettie probably won't make it through January. "That would be really good...if she could make it to January second or third" she said. "But I think that is pretty optimistic". That's when she told me that, but for the loving home care, she would not have made it this far.

As you can imagine, it was another one of those moments you don't forget, like The Day it Happened, or the call on the bus, or the oncologists prognosis. Maybe I have been in denial, at least about how much time we have, if not about the ultimate end. Well, as I said last week: "Unable to see the future as we are, we just take each day..." Since this is my first time at this, I"m in no position to judge the accuracy of the nurse's opinion. However, prudence suggests some more detailed planning is in order.

And so, dear readers, we seem to be approaching the end of Bettie's Challenge. How I wish it wasn't so. I suppose I could go back to daily or even twice daily posts, as I did in the beginning. I could describe each step down into this valley..but there is no honor nor dignity in that. Baring something dramatic, the next post will be titled: "The Last Chapter", and you know what that will say. It will have a version number after the title. I will update that post with details, as I know them, that those of you wishing to honor Bettie at a memorial service will need.

I'm doing OK. Bettie and I are surrounded and supported by loving family and friends...and that's just the support we can see...there's more. Thank you all for taking a moment here and there out of your busy lives to catch up on Bettie's latest status here. You have been doing that for these nearly six months and it means an awful lot to know that you are there...really.

Call it a Chanukkah Blessing

Yesterday evening, Dr. Schumer (who is Jewish) made a house call here, on his way home, presumably, to celebrate Chanukkah. Answering the door, I greeted him and he responded with "How's Bettie?".

"Better," I said..."the last few days she seems to be better".

In the bedroom, he found Bettie in bed, but fully dressed. (Earlier we had her up, sitting in a chair and later had carried her downstairs to be with the family. She was still dressed from that adventure.) I told the doctor that the last couple of weeks (primarily at the instigation of our son Rick who I've hired to be her primary care-giver because he worked for several years as a nursing assistant at UW Medical Center) we have taken a different approach to her activity level. This is what Rick had said to me in a message about two and a half weeks ago:

"I have A LOT of experience with people in Mom's condition. Older ones ALWAYS wanted to sleep ALL the time, but we always got them up during the day. Just like with them, she moans, groans and makes grimacing faces with every exertion, and then for a little while longer, but then is OK. (Just like when we go running, work out & lift weights, it hurts and we made ugly faces & moan.) In the same way, getting Mom up for exercise is definitely good for many reasons, one of which is it reduces the requirement for the very unhealthy pain medication. Visit any hospital or care facility. You'll see that they try to get patients out of bed for part of every day.

"Among the reasons for getting her up, going outside, staying awake a good amount, and trying to walk as much as possible during the day, are: it helps her mind, her appetite, helps stabilize her muscles and reduce discomfort and pain, diminish her restlessness, and helps her to relax, rest, and sleep much better at night."

The doctor took one look and said: "She is better. Healing happens," he says "and it's almost never what doctors do. But I see it occasionally. Not often...but it happens." I told him that it had been over a week since we gave her any Oxycodone for pain and that her 3-day pain patch was two days past due and she didn't seem to need it. Dr. Schumer said he would tell the hospice people that she could be off her pain meds. "You'll have to cut them some slack here", he said "they have this expectation of how things should go...and this is not something they would expect to see."

Bettie smiled at him and said a little something, though we're not sure what it was, I imagine it was something like: "Hey Doc, check me out."

The doctor's calls are primarily a much-appreciated professional courtesy. He doesn't have to do this and I haven't seen a bill. He just sees it as the right thing to do...and he gladly does it. He left with a cheery "Happy Chanukkah", promising to bring Bettie a dreidel on his next visit in two weeks.

It was the doctor who used the word "healing". If this is healing in the miraculous sense, then it is the "from that very hour" (Matt 15:28) variety, as opposed to the more dramatic "take up thy bed, and walk" (John 5:8) example.

What ever it is, Bettie is:

• Awake more each day;
• Not taking pain medication;
• Eating better (though chewing is a major issue, so we puree her food);
• Sleeping better;
• Attempting to talk more, though still unable to find the correct words;
• And just generally perkier than she was two weeks ago.

Unable to see the future as we are, we just take each day and are thankful for whatever blessings we receive. Thank you to Rick and to Dr. Schumer. Happy Chanukkah indeed.