A Night and A Day
One recent Tuesday night I noticed that my colostomy bag was
failing. Reluctantly I left the warm
lounge room and went upstairs to my bedroom.
I started undressing and began sobbing uncontrollably. I reached the bathroom and tried to remove
the colostomy bag with as little mess as possible. By the time I was in the shower it was hard
to tell whether the shower water or tears were greater. Barbara was asking what she could do to
help. It is too early for her to have to
deal with my colostomy bag. As my tears
rolled over me, I realised that this was my lot with the likelihood of things
getting worse; it was a night of lamentation!
Wednesday morning an envelope awaited me from Tristan, a young
friend 35 years my junior. There was a
lovely card, letter that made me cry and a small booklet. In the card, Tristan wrote ‘Dear David,
thinking of you at this stage of life.
May you find peace and be constantly surrounded by the love of your
friends, family and God. Warmly,
Tristan.’
His letter that brought hope after a bleak night (quoted with
permission):
‘I have been
thinking of you often of late, particularly after reading your last few blog
posts. I almost sent you a Facebook
message offering some form of condolence but I held back because my intuition
told me to wait a little. Sure enough
over the weekend, the waiting paid off.
While I was at a Christian Meditation event I discovered the book that
is now included with this letter for you.
I’m glad that with this message I can also provide a gift of practicality!
‘It is a short
booklet called, ‘Meditation and Dying’ and was written by a member of the World
Community for Christian Meditation, the late, Anne McDonnell. She was afflicted with a terminal form of
cancer and wrote this book as a way to explain the experience, and to hopefully
encourage others on the journey. It was
the last copy in the store, and immediately I knew I needed to get this for
you.
‘If you manage
to find the time and energy, I hope reading this book is useful for you.
‘It has been a
pleasure knowing you David, albeit mostly through Facebook these last few
years. I’m glad we got to reconnect at
Liz’s 60th birthday party last year.
‘I also have a
small request to ask of you. If there is
an afterlife, and you see my father Gary….please give him a hug from me. You can let him know that when it’s my turn
to step through the pearly gates I’ll be having a few words with him for
leaving so damn early!:)
‘Blessings to
you David as you continue to be in my thoughts.’
Reading the ‘Meditation and Dying’ booklet the day after a
tough night was the perfect antidote.
The message and reflections in the book resonated deeply with me. I am so glad that tears of lamentation were
followed by words of consolation and comfort.
Support of Family and Friends
This morning I became teary as I realised how vital Barbara’s
care is. I would be lost without her but
know that my family would step in to provide needed support. Indeed in looking at a path forward, I have realised
that time with family must be a priority.
We have a family dinner once every two weeks but these are large
gatherings full of the noise of young life.
So, Barbara and I are getting together once a fortnight separately with
our daughter, her fiancé and our youngest son; our eldest son and his family;
and our middle son and his family!
You, our wider family and friends have let me know by messages,
phone calls and visits of your love and care.
Though you may not think this is much, I can assure you it is.
 |
| Enjoying coffee and tea with friends Sharynne and David. Sharynne offered to help me compile a book on my life so that my grandchild can meet their Granddad. I gladly accepted her offer. |
Energy and Food
These days I struggle to write my DHC Hope Blog and The BezCan Project newsletters. Many hours are spent watching television,
particularly detective shows. At present
I am enjoying three American detective shows of the 1990s: Murder She Wrote; Diagnosis Murder; and Matlock – cannot explain why
these three, often corny, shows hit the spot!
This Monday, Barbara, our youngest and I saw oncologists Drs
Adrian and Kate. One of the outcomes of
this meeting is that Adrian and Kate will arrange for us to meet with the
Palliative Care Unit from the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital.
In the two weeks between my visits, my weight dropped from 87.1
kg to 84.4 kgs, a typical sign of the cancer gaining a stronger hold. So, we talked about helping me eat more. I am feeling like eating the food of my
childhood. I am enjoying fruit juices
and nectars. We came up with the idea of
adding caramel milkshakes to my diet.
With so little energy I find it hard to spend much time with my
grandchildren. I have fond memories of
the one grandparent I knew – Granddad – who died in early 1958 when I was seven. Sadly my brother, only five at that time, does
not remember him. This means it is unlikely
that any of my grandchildren will remember me. On Tuesday granddaughter L enjoyed a chocolate
milkshake with sprinkles while I enjoyed caramel. I will also have a milkshake with
granddaughter E. We are hoping that milkshakes
with Granddad might create memories for E and L.
 |
| L and I enjoying our milkshakes! |
Finding a Path
Over the last few weeks I think I have found parts of a path.
Your encouragement and love helps greatly. Deep lamentation followed by words of
consolation and comfort gave DHC Hope. A
simple idea like having a milkshake with each of my older grandchildren might
create memories.
Today has been a comfortable and enjoyable day!
