I am at the beginning, middle and end....of four clients' life journeys. The one at the beginning of her journey is pregnant. The one at the end is dying of cancer. The ones in the middle are getting married. I'm most interested in the young man who is dying, as he's the client I've spent the most time with and he's the one who is the most fun to be around.
Now, I know that sounds mighty weird, but it's true. The two getting married are fine and it's fun to serve as their officiant, but really--not much going on there. The one who is pregnant--well, that's a whole 'nother story of which we shan't discuss today. The one who is dying--well, let's just say I'm not sure how we didn't get kicked out of chemo last week....for laughing and goofing around too much.
Lest you think he is in denial, let me assure you that he most certainly is not. He is very aware of his terminal illness and recognizes that his time is very short. He's gone through the denial, the anger, the bargaining and has moved on to living and on to acceptance. His comment to me at one point during our chemo conversation: "What do they want me to do, sit around crying, boo hoo? I have cancer. Crying isn't going to change a thing. So, I'm going to have fun. I'm still alive!"
Lest you think I'm in denial, let me assure you that I am most certainly not. I've gone down this road once before with another client and I am here to tell you it was one of the most humbling, touching, life-changing things I think I've ever done. I know this guy is terminal and that there isn't going to be a miracle cure. I know his time is very short. I know that I am going to have a lot of fun along this short journey and he's asked me to come along.
It is not depressing in any capacity. It is the opposite. He is alive and he is living every minute. In fact, he is a real pain in the ass, especially to his mental health providers. But, if you were dying, wouldn't you rather be a pain in the ass than a passive slug, agonizing over how many hours you might still have to live? And, wouldn't you want to put your anger somewhere? Acceptance or not, it still sucks to be dying of cancer, so you might as well put your anger somewhere rather than carry it along for the ride.
If you want to be alive, be around someone who is dying.
One of the younger staff (young enough that I'm old enough to be her mother and teetering on grandmother-hood) always looks a bit squeamish and somewhat mortified when he and I talk. We talk about dying and wishes for the funeral--openly, loudly, irreverently. We make fun of songs he wants played as he dies and where he wants his ashes to go. We laugh about the past and wonder how we didn't know each other back in the '80's. (We have not fully established that we did or didn't know each other--with my ever-changing hair-do's, it's hard for most people to figure this out.) I think she can't figure out why I talk to him about dying, so I assure her it is all right and that he is probably relieved to have one person who is willing to be honest and willing to listen about all this.
If she pays attention, she will see that we talk much more about life than death.
In true maudlin fashion, I remind her that he may outlive both of us, as there might be a bus out there with our name on it and it's gonna squish us like a bug.
I have no idea how long he has to live, as his doctor isn't giving numbers. This is the new way to do things--don't put labels or time frames on it, I guess. (I'm not sure what I think of that and I'm not sure what I would want to know or not know if this ever happened in my universe. I plan on never having to tell you the answer from personal experience!) When I joined the ride, he had 3-12 months to live. The three months are long gone. The nine remaining months might be longer or shorter. Whatever the time frame, we are going to have fun.
If you've never been to a chemo treatment area, you're probably picturing it all wrong. If you are picturing a somber, quiet, dimly-lit room full of bald, sad, gently-weeping patients, you've got it all wrong--well, at least you've got it all wrong in relation to this particular chemo treatment area. If you are picturing a bunch of lonely (and alone) chemo-receiving people lined up in a row, with no one but each other to talk to, that's wrong, too. The place is brightly lit, full of life and energy, nurses bustling around, patients talking to friends and family, TV blaring (a little louder than I would like), with most people looking healthier than not. Oh sure, there are people who look extremely sick, frail and have lost their hair. There are a few people sitting alone as they get their treatment. Almost everyone falls asleep sometime during their treatment....but, for the most part, it is lively while remaining respectful. The nurses--oh, the nurses!--they never sit down and are always smiling in a most genuine way. They stop and chat, check the IVs, chat some more.
The nurses make the place hum with hope, even when there really isn't much hope to be had.
They remember people's names, what chairs they like to sit in, who is with them. They keep moving, with all the bells and alarms calling for attention. They are factual, candid, compassionate, appropriately fun. It's really not a bad place to be.
(Not that you ever want to have to be there, of course.)
The place brings back happy memories of my client, Harvey, who died many a year ago of breast cancer. I got to join her on her journey of chemo, surgeries, appointments, tests, more surgeries and, in the last moments, death, holding her hand as she passed away. You would think returning to the same chemo place would bring sadness, but it does not. It brings back the happy moments we shared while she got her treatment. It brings back memories of going out in public, with her yelling at the cashier and saying inappropriate things. It brings back a sudden urge for a Frosty, as that is what she always wanted when treatment ended.
And, so another client is dying. It is an honor and privilege to be invited along for the ride. I'm so glad I was invited. I'll leave the pregnancy and the newlyweds for someone else to enjoy.
No comments:
Post a Comment