There is life and death in this little community of Yarnell with a high percentage of retirees, seniors, aging boomers, and almost centurions. And let’s face it, death is not the part of life most of us want to think or talk about. Thus I am struggling with this and why I haven’t posted in a while. Death has been on my mind lately and I have been talking about it. My best friend Berta is dying of cancer. There, I said it.
The camper is parked in Berta’s yard and I am helping wherever I can.
Beginning in mid-February Berta noticed difficulty writing and walking in a straight line the direction she wanted to go. I took her to Prescott hospital some 40 miles north of our rural little town in preference to the much smaller Wickenburg 25 miles south. Tests and scans were done. Weeks later a second opinion at Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale with a biopsy confirmed lung cancer metastasized to multiple brain tumors.
Western medicine tells us brain cancer is incurable, yet there is still a push for radiation treatment followed by chemo. And doctors don’t know if either really help a person live longer. Five minute full brain radiation treatments are daily for 2-3 weeks with a long drive so even though presumably not painful would be exhausting. Berta did a lot of research regarding these suggested treatments, natural alternatives, and change in diet to reduce inflammation. For a couple weeks ideas changed almost daily. Yet during this time steroids and anti-seizure medicine have been helping immensely.
Berta’s daughter came down from Portland for two weeks during the zaniest of doctor visits. Her second week here I took the opportunity to get away for a few days and visited with friends volunteering at Casa Grande National Monument only four hours away.
Side yard view
The big question is “How long do I have to live?” And nobody can tell us that. Her daughter, SIL, grandchildren, friends, and I are not dealing with this anywhere near as well as the patient. We will feel the pain of her loss, she will be set free. She is not in pain, just looking to increase the days, weeks, months, or years. Did you know there are no pain receptors on your brain? This is about quality of life. If I could feel good and go about my life, I believe that would be my choice. Sometimes I think that ignorance is bliss.
I selfishly think of who will take care of my mail. Will I have an address or excuse to be in Yarnell? Where will I call home base? Who will kick my butt when I’m stupid and hug me when I’m down? Who will laugh at the antics like repacking the Toyota at a yard sale five times to get it all in? Really, you had to be there.
birthday sunset
The end of March came. After weeks of me doing a lot of nothing, labeling photos, spending way too much time on Facebook, driving to town, and being available, on the morning of my birthday when I’m happily answering FB birthday wishes, I ignore multiple phone calls until a text comes through that Berta has been stung by a scorpion. OMG, I’m on the run as she’s been stung before and experienced anaphylactic shock. But this time she’s OK with Benadryl and ice. We actually went out for an early dinner that day.
A couple days later Berta fell outside and I didn’t hear her calling. The 7th day Adventists were driving by, saw her, and notified me. She lost her balance and had a “wake-up call” to use the walker. Scraped arm, don’t think she bumped her head. Scary that I didn’t hear her. Does this mean someone around 24/7? The idea scares both of us. She begins to wear the car’s panic button which I would surely hear, along with the neighbors.
I am scared. I’m loosing my best friend. I feel broken, and fragile. Thank goodness for a few people in town that help me ground and get out of the pity pot. I move past the sorrow and become more realistic and positive.
Berta, for the most part, is happy. Maybe sleeping more and running around less, but still sharp most of the time. When she’s fatigued, forgetfulness occurs more frequently and motor skills are not the best.
Her daughter and SIL come for another visit. For now, Berta wants to be in her home. Yet we all know a time will come when we are not able to help anymore. I will stay for her as long as I am able. Right now, life is one day at a time.
“Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood? Some afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps 4 or 5 times more. Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps 20 and yet it all seems limitless.”
–Paul Bowles from The Sheltering Sky
The sky to the north looked ominous but only a few drops of rain fell Saturday afternoon. I counted them, seven on the window. Enjoyed the show of clouds racing across the sky from west to east.
Friends and visitors come and go. It’s a great place to meet with people from far away who are traveling in the Southwest. Berta may come down this week and Tom by the end of the week if he can get out of Santa Barbara. Plus Saturday is the 4th Annual Bogger-Fest. Hard to say who’ll show up for that.
