Giving it up

I can never decide if I should post stories from the floor (of course all the while maintaining confidentiality!).  They are so heavy, so real, and so heartbreaking sometimes.  Often after the question, "So where do you work?" and I respond with "oncology," and they respond with, "I bet that's hard," and I say, "yes, but it's good too," they don't really know what else to say.  And a frantic search for a new, comfortable and hopefully more pleasant topic often ensues (on both parts).

However, I feel it would be a disservice to not honor these who fight so hard or who "give it up" so readily and peacefully.  Or, is this really honoring them?  I don't know.  But, they have amazing stories of courage, faith, struggles with truths, their pasts, and wrestling with what's next.  So, forgive me for forcing them upon you, but hopefully you will be able to see these fighters as well and maybe catch a blessing or lesson from their fights as well.

There are days this patient or that patient comes to mind and I'm reminded of their circumstances and their fight. Tonight, one particular woman comes to mind.  She was in her early 70s, I think, and we had seen her intermittently for about a year.  She was a sweet woman, but, I often got the idea she didn't particularly care for me very much (maybe because the first time she had me, I had to wake her up every two hours).  Anyhow, I admitted her this time. Of course she was ill, but she seemed ok (now, there's ill, and there's "this is it" ill).  I always worked really hard to make her smile, because she seemed so downtrodden and fatigued from her fight.  I usually didn't get much of a response from my efforts.  But, even though I expected to see her go home, this time, she was different:  I didn't have to try very hard to get a smile out of her.  I admitted her and  had her for a couple of nights before I went for a weekend off.

When I came back, she was not doing well at all.  She had severe nausea and vomiting. Of course everybody knows this can be common after chemo, but this was much worse than the usual "severe nausea and vomiting."  This night was one of her worst nights.  I had pushed every med possible to control it, made several calls to the doctor and nothing was helping.  She got sick and she got sick and she got sick some more.  I was standing by her bed, placing a washcloth on her forehead and fanning her as she continued to get sick, when she just broke down and began to sob.  Now, mind you, we have some patients are aren't as strong as others and don't fight as long or hard as others.  But this woman was tough as nails.  She was a down-home, West Texas country woman who had physically worked hard her entire life and never complained, though she had plenty of reason to.  And this was the moment she said, "enough."  I saw the moment she "gave it up" and we both knew that was it.

She passed away a couple of days later.

I don't know why I want to tell a bit of her story or honor her.  I'm not sure she would consider my discussing her sobs and moment of surrender an "honor."  But, maybe, she would appreciate her story being told so others may know this life is fleeting. Maybe she would appreciate knowing somebody was deeply affected by her courage and strength both to fight as long as she did and to let go.  Maybe she would encourage people to reconcile differences, to ask for forgiveness and give it to those who need forgiving, to remember to breathe and enjoy their youth and health, to take time to "smell the roses" and enjoy God's creation or to enjoy relationship with one another and do your best to work at it.  I don't know.  Take what you will from her story.  May you be blessed by it and by her, somehow.