One yr ago today we made the decision to stop treatment. It was an excruciating decision based on excruciating pain. My husband NEVER gave up. He was NOT going to let the cancer get the upper hand. So, this decision terrified me.
3/16 was Jim's last day at work. Dr. Hart (hematological oncologist) had given us her personal cell phone for emergencies. She stayed on the phone with us throughout that night into the next day helping us with his pain. Numerous phone calls for help.
3/22 Dr. Wall (radiation oncologist) made a house call. I shared my concerns with Dr. and he came to check on Jim personally.
I'm not sure how many other oncologist make this much of a personal commitment to a patient but I can tell you that these two cared so deeply, so personally for Jim. Not just as a patient but as the amazing man he was. They could see Jim was unique. They got to know us personally. I cannot say enough about the care we received from the doctors, nurses and technicians at St. Luke's Cancer Center.
Still struggling with my sadness. Still angry. No closer to understanding, "Why Jim?"
God, please explain to me why you find it best that James not be here with us?
How is the world a better place without him here? Don't you see how badly we need him?
Don't you see how badly I need him?
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Last day at BRB&T Co.
One yr ago today James worked his last day at Blue Ridge Bank.
I watched him get ready. Moving so slowly and deliberately. Asking me to help with his always pressed slacks and shirt. He could still tie his own tie but I helped with his socks and shoes. The stocking cap covering his bald head. The crutches. Finally, his always present smile to mask his pain. I can still see his back as he moved away from me.
By the time he came home there was no smile. Radiation and pain took every ounce of energy out of him. He was exhausted. Pain. Relentless pain.
So vivid. So clear. How can it be a year ago when it seems just yesterday? I still expect him to come home. Why won't he just come home? Enough already. Just come home.
I watched him get ready. Moving so slowly and deliberately. Asking me to help with his always pressed slacks and shirt. He could still tie his own tie but I helped with his socks and shoes. The stocking cap covering his bald head. The crutches. Finally, his always present smile to mask his pain. I can still see his back as he moved away from me.
By the time he came home there was no smile. Radiation and pain took every ounce of energy out of him. He was exhausted. Pain. Relentless pain.
So vivid. So clear. How can it be a year ago when it seems just yesterday? I still expect him to come home. Why won't he just come home? Enough already. Just come home.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Last trip to STL
One yr ago today we made our last trip to St. Louis.
We got the expected news but we had been wishing our team in STL had thought of something our KC team had not. It was another bad day.
I vividly remember Jim's demeanor, his voice, the look in his eyes; our fear and sadness. I could not stop crying. He was silent.
The flight home: I watched his face as he kept his eyes closed. He was tired and worn out. We held hands. Silent.
By the time we landed Jim composed himself enough to exit the aircraft with a smile on his face; confident. I could not contain my tears. I was not so composed.
My brave husband. The ultimate warrior.
We got the expected news but we had been wishing our team in STL had thought of something our KC team had not. It was another bad day.
I vividly remember Jim's demeanor, his voice, the look in his eyes; our fear and sadness. I could not stop crying. He was silent.
The flight home: I watched his face as he kept his eyes closed. He was tired and worn out. We held hands. Silent.
By the time we landed Jim composed himself enough to exit the aircraft with a smile on his face; confident. I could not contain my tears. I was not so composed.
My brave husband. The ultimate warrior.
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