Death's Door
 

My cousin Jim has been in the Air Force for about 10 years now. He's a real stand-up guy...a class act. 32, a Major, married with 4 kids (another passed away shortly after birth), he's been working on some top secret shit in Colorado for a few years now. Before that, he was working on some top secret shit in Montana. It involves missiles...that much I know.

About 6 months ago, he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. He did chemo until recently, and was cancer-free as of two weeks ago. But he started feeling ill again last week, and after further tests, it was discovered that he has 6 new tumors, in his abdomen and chest. His only hope at this point involves stem cells. However, the chances of the treatment being successful are slim, and he would have to travel to have the procedure done, most likely to DC.

After discussion and soul-searching, he decided that no further treatment was really worth it. He made his peace, and decided that he would like to come home to St. Louis to die. He will be home next week.

I can't even begin to imagine making a choice like that--to KNOW that you could die soon (he's been given 3 months), and deciding to do so. The guy's got an incredibly positive outlook, and doesn't want anyone boo-hooing over him. He says all he wants to hear about is happy stuff. And while I'm sure he's scared inside, I find it amazing that someone can be so positive at death's door. I hope I'm that peaceful when it's my turn.

     I would ask you to give him and his family our condolences but I doubt the words of a bunch of strangers would mean much in this trying time.
     So, instead please extend our appreciation to him for all of the years he spent in the service of our country. We are all poorer for his the loss of it. He sounds like a brave man and a good soldier.

My thoughts and blessings are with you, your cousin and the rest of your family at this time.

May he enjoy this time with you all, and may you all find the rewards of the gift of his presence in your lives.

Well I'm knocking on Death's door
Will I take my rest, among the blessed
Mother are you waiting
Father are you pacing
I'm coming home

I'm knocking on Death's door
Will I take my rest, in my Sunday best
Mother are you anxious
Father are you gracious
I'm coming home

I've been away too long
For so long you've been strong
I've been away too long
I know that it was wrong
But I'm coming home

Well I'm knocking on Death's door
Will I take my rest, have I passed the test
Mother are you praying
Father I am saying
I'm coming home

written by M L Gore

Re: Death's Door
 

I know a woman who has been fighting cancer for twelve years. Some folks think she's nuts but she has managed to bring out the good in a number of folks. She needs assistance getting to and from her chemo treatments and there is always someone ready to do it. My youngest daughter went a number of times, when my Mom who is a cancer survivor drove her, developing a relationship with her and the staff in the clinic. I don't think anyone looking in has a right answer in these cases so the wishes of the patient have to be respected. Its his life, its his choice so you have to support him.

Well, that's definitely a shitty position to be in, but in a way, he's lucky. He gets to come to terms with it, to say his goodbyes, to get in touch with long-lost friends and say "hey, man, let's have a drink". If I had three months, I'd make sure to make them the best of my life. Hopefully he'll do the same.

Another window has apparently opened...

Doctors want to try heavy chemo for a few weeks to see if it works. Jim is open to that, plus they are going to try a round of the stem cell treatment as well (two of my cousins are going to CO next week to donate blood, and the treatment will be done in Denver, close to his home).

It's worth a shot. :)

The human body is a magnificent machine, and sadly, anything as complex as that has so many potentials for malfunction that it boggles the mind. However, in the end, we are creatures of the mind, and it is not the body which defines us. If anything can overcome this, it is your cousin's mind. Sounds like he's got a good one.

Syc, I hope your cousin responds well to the treatments. My best wishes and general good vibes to him and his family and friends.

I talked to Jim on the phone tonight...he sounds good, although I could hear the fear in his voice. They're going to start chemo next week, but the stem cell treatment will not start for a month or so.

My Aunt Joan has been with him since all this started (which I believe was last June or July, so this has been going on for almost a year now)...she's been helping my cousin Kathy take care of the kids and keeping things in order. My cousin Johanna was also up there until the end of 2002, doing much of the same. My Uncle Jim leaves tomorrow to head up there, and he'll be up there for at least 5 weeks, just to be there with him.

To me, it's just one of many examples of what family is all about. I only wish Rho's family was so proactive in regards to her kidney failure...

Again, best of luck to him, and to all of your extended family. It is very stirring to see the amount of support and love among all of you.

With respect to the contrast with Rho's situation, perhaps some of the difference is due generally to interaction styles between folks in the Mid-West vs. the East? Just a thought.

God looked around his garden
And saw an empty place
He then looked down upon the earth
And saw your tired face
He put his arms around you
And lifted you to rest
God's garden must be beautiful
He welcomes all the best
He knew that you were suffering
He knew you were in pain
He knew that you would never
Get well on earth again
He saw the road was getting rough
And the hills so hard to climb
So he closed your weary eyelids
And whispered, peace be thine
It broke our hearts to lose you
But you did not go alone
For part of us went with you
The day God called you home.

My cousin began a new round of chemotherapy earlier this month. Unfortunately, it has not gone well...apparently, it is a very strong drug, and it has left him unable to recognize anyone and very weak.

Earlier this week, he was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. Apparently, b/c of his immune system and the chemo, he is unable to take any medication for it. Therefore, the doctors are now saying "any day now."

"Do not go gentle into that good night...rage, rage against the dying of the light."--John Donne

im sorry syc. its a terrible thing to have to go through, for everyone involved.

~james

Sorry Bro. I have a friend whose little daughter is on the edge right now. Its gut wrenching. We just don't know enough about fighting cancer.

Jim is at home now, getting hospice care, and resting comfortably. He is lucid again...my mom talked to him this morning. The doctors are saying 3-6 months now, and they're trying to figure out a way for him to go back to St. Louis.

But let's add some insult to injury, shall we?

As I mentioned, my Aunt Joan (Jim's mom) has been in Colorado for almost a year now, helping Jim's family out. Apparently, she was not feeling well last night and went to the hospital. She wound up having a heart attack, and a short time later, suffered a massive stroke. She's currently in a coma, and apparently has massive brain damage. So, the outlook is rather bleak at this point.

My uncle and two of my cousins (there are 4 kids total) had just returned from Colo. Spgs. Thursday, but left to return there this morning. Fortunately, my aunt's sister and brother-in-law were in town, visiting Jim, so she wasn't all alone when this happened.

My aunt wasn't the model of perfect health, but I would suspect that the situation with Jim has taken an incredible toll. She and my uncle Jim (young Jim's dad) tried for 7 years before they had young Jim. And he was the only boy, and the oldest, of 4 children. So I would imagine seeing your oldest child slipping away before your eyes is more than many can bear. I just hope she's comfortable and in little pain.