What Helps When You’re on the Front Line? | A Cancer Journey
This is Part III of my story, to read Part I, or Part II, click here.
{ my husband Lou was diagnosed with cancer and given months to live. this is what happened to both of us as his life drew to an end. the people that touched me were angels and not many people read this part of the story. if you know someone on the front lines like i was, here’s what you can do to help }
It was amazing to us how quickly Lou lost basic strength and the ability to just handle any of the normal routines. He was having difficulty navigating the stairs to our bedroom, but insisted on remaining there, though hospice had an open bed order.
There was a huge DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) sheet on display in the house. We were told if anything occurred we must call Hospice, not 9-1-1. That came into play quickly in the middle of the night when Lou fell in the bathroom and couldn’t get up. I was next to no help. It took us over an hour to get him into bed and nearly injured both of us. This was so distressing. Hospice was unavailable and we were temporarily on our own. It was so frightening.
We both realized the hospital bed was now inevitable. We placed the order.
The will to do and be Lou’s “everything” was so strong in me. I did not look in the mirror and see what it was doing to me. Even if I had, I did not care.
Here are some of the sweet things that really helped me walk through this.
Photo Courtesy of ©iStockphoto.com/aurorat
*We maintained daily devotions and prayer together.
Taken a little out of context, but comforting still the same, I read Psalm 107:6-10 to us every day. It became our conscious choice to praise the Lord for the circumstance in which we found ourselves. We also read from sheets of scriptures on healing promises, here are a few of the ones we went to often: James 5:14, Jeremiah 17:14, & Isaiah 53:5.
*Family Support: Our daughter April worked it out to be there for part of most days. Just having the support and her cheerful personality perked Lou up greatly and me, too, not to mention her fabulous cooking.
*I identified a core group of friends and family who were standing with us and maintained contact. I did this through Facebook and group emails. One sister-in-law checked in weekly and I took the time to be specific in my response covering the previous week and current prayer requests. She passed it on to the rest of the family.
*I accepted visitors, meals, and any other helps that were offered. It is amazing how much my work, Rotary, friends, church and close neighbors wanted to provide meals. I was so thankful and encouraged! My favorite was chicken soup. Lou was able to sample most everything. Those visits strengthened and uplifted both of us greatly. Our most frequent visitor was our pastor, Mike Bayer.
*Music became even more important than usual. I identified with certain song lyrics and a couple really “got me through” tough moments. Sara MacLachlin’s “Answer” (If it takes a lifetime, I won’t break, I won’t bend” ran through my brain during all the tough times.) And Twila Paris’ “Fix your Eyes on Jesus” was another mantra: “Following Close behind, Following, ever blinded to the things that “should” not move me…Fix your eyes on Jesus” (not on what was quickly happening right before my eyes!) We also had quiet, but uplifting music playing most of the time.
*Taking breaks. Boy that was a tough one. I didn’t want to be out of Lou’s presence. And believe me, he didn’t want me out of the room. But it became important to leave for short periods, even it was to rush to the pharmacy and wait for drug refills, or walk around the block. Once Lou was in a coma, I even went to Dana Point the morning of his birthday. Angela and I walked the harbor with the dogs and sat on our bench and watched the waves in his honor. Bella, his Bernese Mountain dog knew right where she was. She jumped up and sat on the bench, nuzzled us and watched the water quietly for nearly an hour. It was a healing time.
Photo Courtesy of ©iStockphoto.com/bitterfly
*Getting enough rest myself. That never happened. Looking back, I should have found some way to make sure it did. If you find yourself in this situation, insist on it, for your own health and for your sanity.
*Actually fitting myself into Lou’s hospital bed with him. I really wish I had done this more, in retrospect. We did it a few times and those have become precious memories. If I had it to do over, I would have personally rented a larger bed. Being in a separate rollaway right next to him just didn’t do it.
Everyone’s journey is different. Some cancers are actually beatable. Some aren’t, but come on so slowly and gradually that everyday life and even the ability to continue working is possible. Our situation was totally the opposite. The trip to total incapacity was extremely fast.
But whatever you may be experiencing and at whatever level, I believe these points may help you, too.
|| what about you?
Have you been through a similar struggle?
What helped you?
What do you wish you would have done differently?
50 Comments
Anne…..Once again thank you for sharing insights from your personal journey…..I am sure your helpful hints will prove be helpful to people….I especially like that you reminded us of how important it is for the caregiver to take breaks….even a walk around the block….Just keep reminding yourself that the tough times you went through will be used to help someone else greatly….Mark
Mark,
It has to be shared. I have to believe there are some parts to every segment that will resonate, comfort, or guide another and perhaps make things easier for them.
That’s what we do, isn’t it?
Hugs,
Annie
Anne,
I think your perspective is so unique and so special. Unless you go through something like this there is just no way of knowing what your side of the experience is like. The activities that you and Lou kept together are so simple yet SO worthy of the time you had together. Thank you for sharing this intimate part of your journey with him & for being vulnerable as you share with us about what creating meaningful time together looks like.
I admire you so much & love you more,
Molly
Molly,
Thank you for your work to spearhead this blog and make it so visible to so many. I have to believe that many people with a similar journey will read this and be helped by it.
I forgot to tell you! I just got a new friend request on Facebook. I messaged her: “How do I know you?” Turns out someone had sent her my first segment of this sequence about Lou’s and my cancer journey “Earthquake” because she had just lost her own husband and the friend thought she should read it. So, you just never know how our readership grows or who is being helped out there. I was amazed and humbled and have made a new friend. We are now messaging and comforting each other.
Love you back,
Anne
Anne, what a testimony to the power of putting yourself out there. Your courageous sharing has made it possible for new relationship, camaraderie, and as you said, mutual comfort. I am so blessed by your story & share with you praise for God’s ways & goodness. These graces are so beautiful.
Thank you for sharing what you do, for being a beacon for others, and for putting it out there that we aren’t alone in grief.
love you,
Molly
Really was a cool thing. No we are not alone.
hugs, Anne
Hi Anne –
I am still very touched by the love and care you have given Lou! This was probably your biggest challenge in your life and one of the biggest heartaches that you will ever have to live with. You have learned so many difficult lessons in such a short time. As I look back I admire the commitment and love you and Lou have shared, you are great role models for all of us. I see ever single lesson you listed as a lesson you can take forward with you, asking for help, circling your self with a core group of people, accepting gifts and contributions form others like it or not, enjoying music and looking for therapy, rest and rejuvenation, creating precious memories, because in the end that is all we have other than our faith.
Wow, Neil,
You are so right and you pulled it right out of what I wrote. We all need help now and then. We need community, to reach out and love and be loved, letting people give to us as they see a need and being humble, thankful recipients, letting music speak to us and heal us, seeking ways to soothe our spirit and being healthy and getting our rest. We have to continue to make every moment count. And seeking to please our Maker through it all. Aren’t we both just so profound!!
Thank you!
Dear Anne, thank you for continuing to write about your journey with cancer. It is so inspiring to read how you were able to juggle everything, keep Lou at the center of your love & attention- I feel blessed to have witnessed some of this first hand. Your strength is amazing & I admire you so much. Thank you, I love you. XOXOX Carrie
Carrie
I know I don’t deserve too much praise for the juggling but I sure never, never planned to give up or give in.
I don’t think you would either.
Love
Anne
Hi Anne,
Your written words are so soothing; I always feel a sense of calm as I read your blogs. You have given us such important tips to survive being on the “front line.” You are an inspiration and I know your words will touch so many going through what you experienced last year. I admire your strong faith and your conscience effort to count your blessings even as you were going through the very worst moments of your life. I sometimes find that I need to force myself to focus on the good because I am so angry about the bad that has been dealt to our family. Thank you for sharing your intimate and personal journey – by doing so you are helping those of us on our own grief journeys.
Becky
Becky,
I often feel so cheated by death. Now that is total, true honesty.
But in trying to understand how I came to what I did as I went through my journey, I am realizing that what some call strength or courage or survival is nothing more than making continual conscious (and sometime unconscious CHOICES… choosing to fix my eyes on Jesus and not on the horrible circumstances, choosing to keep giving and believing and not give up, choosing to get up and take care of the concern instantly even though I barely laid down again and barely started to fall into relaxation and this has been happening every 10-15 mins for perhaps the past 8 hours. And remember, I am not a nurse. I am not a caregiver and I didn’t know what I was doing. That is when you say to yourself: If it takes my whole life, I won’t break, I won’t bend.
Now in retrospect, there isn’t much I could change. I would like to think I would have never gotten short and would have stayed constant and always patient, but I broke, too. I came to the end of myself a few times, and I hate to remember it, but that was totally human. The situation was inhuman, being handled by little more than love and sheer will.
So, if you are angry sometimes, give yourself some slack. You had no control and no chance to wrap yourself around your situation before you were just dealt the hand.
I hope I help you. I hope I help many…not just with the blog itself but with these followup conversations.
Hugs,
Anne