In 2001, my father was diagnosed with stomach cancer. As he was recovering from surgery in the hospital, my sister was brought in by ambulance to the same hospital. We received the news that she had a malignant brain tumor, glioblastoma multiform. Four weeks later, her grown son was rushed to another hospital in the middle of the night in liver and kidney failure with half a percent chance of survival. Just a few short weeks before, all three were healthy, active adults. My sister passed away four months later. Her son, by all the specialists’ opinions, miraculously recovered and was able to travel and see his mother just before she slipped into a coma. My mother, also quite healthy, had her first heart attack and bypass surgery three months later. My father passed away the next month. His services were held on my parents 59th wedding anniversary. My mother had two more heart attacks. Diagnosed with a fragile aortic valve, she was told she had four to six months to live. Miraculously (again!), she lived a relatively normal life for another 4 1/2 years.
During the illnesses, our whole family pulled together. We shared caregiving responsibilities, not equally, but it wasn’t about equality. We all did as much as we could when we could. And when we couldn’t, there was always another to step in that day. Initially, I was tired, confused, shocked, angry, sad, sleepless. But in time, I began to recognize miracles and, believe it or not, joy, and yes, even humor. I had never felt so loving and so loved. As a family, we began to realize that we share a bizarre sense of humor, and a little comic relief can be a welcomed change from sadness and worry. We grew so much closer, and I felt so fortunate that we lived within several hours of each other, something that I had taken for granted. Gratitude for the many years we spent together helped me.
I cried in the shower every morning. Then I dried off and tried to pretend that I was an adult, and I faced each day, in a clumsy, flawed sort of way. I spent a lot of time in the car, driving from hospital to nursing facility to my childhood home. I blasted the radio and sang as loudly as a could during each trip. I got a speeding ticket. I got a cat. Acquaintances became friends. I almost lost my job. Two years later, I got promoted.
It is now ten years later. My brother and I are closer than ever. My nephew has fully recovered and will become a father in July.
Each caregiver’s situation is different. The relationship with their loved one is unique. What works for one person may not work for another. I know, I searched for a magical formula to keep me going. But if I can give any suggestion, it would be to ask for help when you need it. Accept help when it is offered. Connect and share, when the appropriate opportunity arises. I was amazed that people I thought barely knew me offered kindness and assistance. And try to forgive those who you perceive are not there for you. You are in their thoughts; they may not know how to express what they are feeling or tell you what they have done for you. Angels do not necessarily announce themselves.
My heart goes out to all of you who read this. And my very best wishes and hopes are with all of you.
My “miracle” nephew begat a miracle. He survived an illness, diagnosed as terminal, and became the father of a healthy baby boy this week. He and his wife are both 44 years old!!!
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Peggy,
CONGRATULATIONS! Miracles do happen every day, and now we have proof, don’t we!
Let the celebration begin, Great Aunt Peggy
~Char
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Jean, thank you. Certainly, for quite a while it wasn’t possible for me to feel love and appreciation. I was just numb. And when I did began to feel, it was mostly anger. But the many unexpected acts of love and kindness helped my family through this. I was told that a group in Russia was praying for my family. I grew up on a small farm near a small town in Kansas. Russia? How does that happen? I will probably never know. It was hard to keep my back turned to love and appreciation when strangers cared, and friends and acquaintances willingly took on the burden to carry me.
Thank you, thank you, for all you do.
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Hi Peggy, if ever there were a story that snapped me back in place it is yours. I was so taken a back that I forwarded your story to all of the people in my life who have taken the time to care about me. I titled my email “to all my angels”, sent the link to your story here at DLH and thanked those people in my life who have given me hope simply by geniunely caring. Your story allowed me to face my fears of exactly all of these things that happened to you. You without even knowing it, by writing your story, have provided me with a renewed strength that I so needed at this very point. Peggy, you shine. THANK YOU!
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Oh Melisa, you are an angel for sharing with your friends. I would like to think that my family’s story is unique, but sadly, there are certainly many other families that have so many challenges to face. In sharing my story, it is my hope that those who read it will find some element of it that helps them. My best to you!
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Peggy, what a GREAT story! Love your (and your family’s) spirit!!!! I second, third, and fourth your suggestion “connect and share, when the appropriate opportunity arises”! Connections, support, stable relationships, and love are the ONLY things we have! They are what matter and what ‘get us through’ the trials. Great story!
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Lynn, thank you for your kind comments. I’m not sure that we were all that spirited! So many others stepped up, propped us up, carried us.
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Peggy – My exhusband and father of my teen kids has glioblastoma multiforme – in about 7 weeks he will have hit a two year mark which is amazing! So sorry you lost your sister to this aggressive tumor. Andy is doing OK but certainly not unaffected. Had large tumor (large baseball/small grapefruit sized) removed from his frontal love in August of 09 then chemo and radiation. I am struggling with that “waiting for the other shoe to drop” emotion – projecting – not staying in the moment. I am so sorry it took your sister so quickly. Thanks for sharing your story! Hugs to you. My family has also been a godsend – we do what we can, when we can and some days it just has to be enough. Take care.
Marietta
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Marietta, first of all, my best wishes and prayers are with you. I celebrate with you, Andy, and your family as you approach the two year mark!
Oh, that pesky shoe! I wasted so much time waiting for it, tried to prepare for it, and when it finally came, it hit me in the back of the head! How wise of you to recognize the benefits of staying in the moment.
Hugs to you, Andy, and your family. -Peggy
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Ditto here as well – what a great story/sad story/inspiration – Personally I find it easier to tell other’s to ask for and accept help than I actually practice. I think the only thing I can chalk that up to is pride – self centered pride. Thankfully – I have friends and family in my life that will give me help whether I “need it” or not. For this I am very grateful – and for this site and every one’s story of strength, hope, sadness, courage, grief and recovery. I may not post often, but I’m here and pulling strength from all of you here.
I joked with Char one day – what happens at DLH – stays at DLH – may not be Vegas, but it’s free and you won’t lose the farm. Love your story Peggy! Hugs and Don’t Lose Heart!
Marietta
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Marietta, excellent point!!! I totally relate to the pride thing. Asking for help is hard. I think we all have to just feel our way through that.
Initially, I devoted myself to being strong, there, organized, multitasking, in control. After several months as a caregiver, I got on a hospital elevator with two other women. One asked what floor I wanted. My mind went blank. They waited. Struggling fo a quick answer, I blurted out, “I’m not sure. What hospital is this?” (A big thank you to those two Good Samaritans who politely answered the question, instead of running out the door, shouting “Security”!) It was an ah-hah moment for me. Obviously, I was exhausted and needed to set limits. That evening, I mentally tried to form a list of people who were demanding too much from me. The only name that made the final list was…mine.
Hugs to you, too, Marietta! -Peggy
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Hi Peggy,
What a terrific story, of a remarkable family and a miracle that warms my heart. The grave situations, you all went through, might have destroyed the family unit, yet you endured and are awe-inspiring. You have inspired me and I am sure all who read your story @ DLH. Thank you so much for sharing.
~Char
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Char, thank you for you lovely comments. My family was/is not really remarkable. We were just trying to survive the situations a day at a time, one foot in front of the other, walking in a maze. The truly remarkable individuals were those that stepped in and supported us.
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Peggy, this is one of those OMG stories that make you shake your head while you’re reading it. It could have been a story of tragedy and loss, but you turned it into one of love and appreciation. Thanks for sharing your hard-won wisdom, and for giving hope to others in dire situations. “I got a speeding ticket. I got a cat.” LOL, LOve it. ~ Jean
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