This past week has been an emotional roller-coaster, mostly involving Tim, and everything else, including Christmas, has faded into the background. Last night the roller coaster took a huge plunge and I watched everything change in the course of a single meeting.
After three doctors gave Tim his diagnosis a couple of days ago, we no longer talked in terms of his recovery. Tumors in both lungs and the esophagus have developed too far to be treated, and he was told he has at most six months to live. Most medics familiar with this type of cancer estimate much less time. A feeding tube was inserted since he can no longer swallow, and we began to mobilize to bring him home to San Carlos.
I visited a local Catholic hospital, said to be one of the best, but soon realized we didn't have the funds to afford it. But we had another option: a vacation home five minutes from my place, where he would be comfortable. I found a private nurse and interviewed a woman who could clean and spend most of the week with him, figuring I could sleep over most nights. I don't have nursing or hospice skills, and I asked myself a number of times how I could get over my queasiness and take on this unfamiliar role, but I was convinced that what I don't know I could learn from the nurse. At least, I thought, he would get the attention he needs for the bedsores and a number of other details we felt were being ignored at the hospital.
I was looking for a hospital bed, an IV stand, foam pad, sources for morphine and oxygen...
But last night Team Tim got together, at least those of the group here in town, and in less than an hour everything changed. A former nurse went into grueling detail about what could be expected in caring for a terminal cancer patient, and a someone else pointed out that the hospital didn't have to discharge him. Then the consensus quickly swung in the direction of leaving him in the hospital. Some said they'd visit him regularly, with one of his friends promising to drive up on Christmas Day and take his laptop and some DVDs.
I had nothing much to say, being overwhelmingly outvoted. I don't have much faith in the overworked, underpaid hospital staff and worry that his bedsores, already very painful, will get much worse if they don't regularly help him shift positions. While everyone on the Team is tentatively volunteering to visit him on a regular basis, I wonder how long before they start forgetting Tim. Out of sight, out of mind.
A friend called Tim this morning and explained the decision, and Tim finally agreed that he's probably better off where he is, mentioning he had a long talk with one of his doctors last night. But I can't help but wonder if the individuals in this group would make the same decision for a spouse or best friend. This I know for sure: I wouldn't want such a choice to be made for me.

11 comments:
Oh Bliss. We are so sorry to hear the latest about Tim. He is very lucky to have you on his side, looking out for his interests. It looks like you are the best Christmas present he could ever get. Please remember to take care of yourself during this stressful time.
Whoo-boy. You´re something, Bliss, and I mean that in a good way.
Oh Bliss, I am so sorry that things are going this way.
Did anyone ask Tim what he wanted? If he's still alert he should have a say in things. If he does stay in the Hospital, maybe you could have a log of who came in at what time on what day and what they did while there. They can also log the conditions of his room, care from staff and maybe even if he's left sitting or lying down. This is something we did with my Mom, Hospice set up the log so that their nurses would know what was going on when they would stop by. No need for them to wash her hair when we had just done it that morning....
You, lady, are proof that angels walk among us - may you be blessed with all of the love your huge heart can hold -
Cyn and Mike - I need to get over my disappointment and just figure out what I can do on my own. Lots of visits, working on his book.
Felipe - Um, thanks, I think.
Chrissy y Keith - Yo tambien. Trying to figure out what I need to learn from this.
Jomamma - He wanted to come home. But he's been convinced now to stay, and yes, it would be a good thing for us to keep track of things but you know how it is when a committee (as opposed to a family) is involved. This hospital is very different from hospice.
Charles - To be honest, I didn't think it was going to be all that hard. My stepdad and a cousin both died at home, but of course they had hospice.
I also think it's a crying shame that the 'committee' decided to keep him in Hermosillo. A crying shame.
Overboard and Bliss..during the past 15 years I have stayed with 3 friends who wished to die at home...whose friends couldn't "handle it". My only thoughts were what if it was you? How would you feel if ALL of your friends bailed when you needed them most? I did handle it...and they were some of the most gratifying experiences of my life. Now sounding like a preacher..I will sign off..but like you, Bliss...it disheartens you but it will never change you..take care.
The decision is truly a tope. I think he is giving the "committee" a gift by agreeing to their decision. And he will give you a gift on Christmas day by welcoming you into his final chapter.
Stay strong.
Dear Bliss, it sounds like you are doing everything one person can possibly do for a friend in Tim's condition....and I'm sure your efforts are easing his way.
Don't forget to take breaks to care for yourself...so you won't be too frazzled to take care of him as you'd like to at the important times.
Hospice work is sometimes grueling - but beautifully memorable too.
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