END OF LIFE ISSUES

As many of you know, since February 14, 2008 I was the caregiver for my Auntie Dee in her battle with Stage III Vulvar Cancer. My husband, sons, and I alone cared for her since last February, 2008 (she had been diagnosed at the end of January, 2008) as she had never married and had no children of her own.

Other family members were out of the picture for many decades for one reason or another. Plenty of anger over past hurts, excuses and blame to go around as in any large, dysfunctional family.

I was not a party to any of that, but just like Christ, I am the one suffering for the sins of the multitude.

Closer family members to me, turned their backs on my aunt and I when we found out I was the executrix and beneficiary of the will.

For many years, my husband, sons, and I assisted my aunt with different chores around the house and various business matters. At one point in 1999, Auntie Dee gave me power of attorney to assist her in a personal matter. I did, put the document in my safe where my aunt asked me to store it with her sealed will; and then, between raising two boys, going back to school for my Master's Degree, and working full time, forgot about it for the next decade.

That is until a telephone call from a screaming relative had me searching my safe at 9:30 at night on the 13th of February 2008. Ah yes, there was much yelling, gnashing of teeth, poison e-mails, threats, and bad behavior by many involved.

For my part, I had 2-3 minutes of quite vociferous anger, loudly voiced and colorfully charged, on a relative's answering machine. When I calmed down, I immediately went to confession and repented. It was a bad reaction to a horrible e-mail I had received.

Funny, but everyone, from attorneys to religious, who reads that e-mail and hears of my reaction to it, agrees that the reaction was understandable, even as I still wish it had been more politely articulated.

Now, those same family members, and two others who had NOTHING to do with my aunt for decades, are trying everything they think is in their power to prolong probate, and cost me many more thousands of dollars than I have already spent in helping my aunt over this last year and a half.

I'm sure they think their tactics will bring me to my knees.

I only kneel before THE GOD...not those who believe themselves to be gods!

As they continue to dig their heels in, they are wasting time and very limited resources that are sorely needed to pay medical, reverse mortgage, and astronomical credit card debts.

My uncle's wife told me that the living room furniture and a credenza in the house were worth a fortune. The furniture is scratched and threadbare. An appraiser came in and told us that it is not worth the cost it would incur to refinish it. That credenza hasn't been in the house since the late 80's as far as I can remember. My aunt had sold it, and many other knick-knacks and furnishings after my grandfather had died, when she was no longer getting his social security money each month, and before she took out the reverse mortgage.

Something my uncle's wife or her children would have known if they had ever bothered to put the past behind them and tried to rekindle relationship there.

It was really a pleasure to hear my uncle's wife basically tell me I was less important than the furniture; even as she told me she was a good Catholic woman who goes to church every Sunday.

I told her I teach good Catholic women; and more than that, I lived the good Catholic woman's life this last year plus, through service to my aunt. The telephone call ended rather quickly after that exchange. Can you imagine that?

In the midst of this debacle, I have recently had to make some decisions with the help of a probate attorney. It is with a very heavy heart, and only after consulting clergy and attorneys, that I must have a summons served not only on the two cousins, who probably wouldn't have known my aunt if they had fallen over her; but, on my own mother.

A woman whom it seems, since she has not contacted me nor have I been allowed to contact her, under threat of an order of protection, has forgotten she has not one but TWO DAUGHTERS!

And the younger daughter, the "accident" is the one she has thrown under the bus!

ME!

The worst part of it all, is that the cancer was not what killed my aunt. She was actually doing quite well with that after two surgeries and radiation. Even going out shopping on her own on the town jitney or with my husband or I or my older son; and, ordering materials for a new kitchen floor that she intended to, and very easily could have, installed herself with minimal assistance, had she not fallen and broken her hip this past March.

Yes, that 5 year prognosis was looking pretty good, and she might still be with us today, and I would not be in the middle of this insanity, if she had not needed a hip replacement and complications arose. Even still, she rallied enough to be discharged to a rehabilitation center for physical therapy, to learn to walk again. But, then an infection took hold and in her weakened condition, things spiraled downward very quickly.

My aunt spent the entire month of March in the hospital with the hip fracture, surgery, and recuperation. She spent two more weeks in the rehab facility before I got the call early one morning that she had been rushed to the emergency room. I couldn't imagine why. When I had left her the night before she was sleeping soundly and peacefully.

I was in no way prepared for what I encountered in the last bay all the way around the half circle on the left side of that emergency room. I had been told on the telephone that Auntie Dee was unresponsive; but, I could never have been prepared for it.

She lay like a wounded bird on that hospital bed, tiny, her back arched in pain, her mouth open, moaning and gasping for air. Her eyes open but unseeing. I spoke her name and told her I was there; but she didn't seem to understand.

My younger son had gone to the hospital with me; but, I alone was allowed to see my aunt. I guess I looked like I was going to drop to the floor as I spoke to her because all of a sudden there were strong arms around me guiding me to a chair. A gentleman with the kindest eyes I had ever seen was asking me if I was okay.

What does Jesus teach us in Holy Scripture?

That we must see Him in the poor and vulnerable that we serve. Well, in this instance it was I being served and He came in the form of the janitor..the kindness of strangers!

Since February 2008, Auntie Dee and I had relied heavily on the kindness of strangers. And, I thank God for each and every one of them every single day even, as I lament the destruction of one part of my extended family.

During the entire time I was assisting my aunt over the last year plus, many times, I would say to the secretaries or volunteers who drove my aunt to appointments when I simply could not be absent from work, that I wish I had a mother to talk things over with...to ask advice...to help with the decision making.

But, that was not to be.

And, so I sought expert opinions, talked things over with my aunt explaining everything to her. All she kept saying to me was, "Rosemarie, I want to live. Help me live."

Each time, I would promise her I would. And, I really thought that we had bested the situation. We went for opinions, second opinions, I researched, called everyone I could think of and I believe in the bottom of my heart, that if she had not fallen that Auntie Dee had a good chance at the magic 94 years (the age my grandfather died), if only she hadn't have taken that one misstep that ultimately ended it all!

"If only's" like "used to be's" "...just lay on the floor 'til you sweep them away."

And then, you are faced with situations that you have to learn how to deal with in a hurry. Kidneys stop working, certain things begin to happen that can be prepared for given the right resources; and, the ability to foresee the need to study those resources before the inevitable happens.

That is why, when I saw the following link on Twitter tonight from @disability, I knew I must share it with you. It's hard to think about, but those we love are finite on this earth. When a health crisis occurs we must be ready not only for our loved ones and their comfort, but for our own well-being as we watch and help them pass from this life to the next.

Whether you are facing the situation now or not, please take a look at this information and prepare yourself. Hospice didn't have time to prepare me; because things turned so fast for Auntie Dee. And yet, if you read past posts here you will see much of what is on this link I have discussed, as it was happening with my aunt.

We don't make things easier on ourselves when we stick our heads in the sand!

I pray, you might never need to use the information listed there. But, please click on the link, gird yourself with the knowledge you may need to help your loved one pass comfortably.

More importantly, I beg you if you have hard feelings over past hurts, GO TO THE PERSON WHO HURT YOU...IF THE HURT IS SO BAD YOU CAN'T BEAR TO EVER SEE THAT PERSON AGAIN, PRAY FOR THEM AND FOR YOURSELF. DON'T LET IT FESTER FOR DECADES OR WORSE FOR YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!!

AND, PLEASE, PLEASE, DON'T TAKE IT OUT ON A THIRD PARTY THROWN INTO THE MIX NOT OF THEIR OWN ACCORD. ALL YOU ARE DOING THEN IS PERPETUATING THE HURT AND SPREADING IT FURTHER.

OH, IF YOU THREATEN SOMEONE WITH AN ORDER OF PROTECTION (ESPECIALLY IF YOU DO IT IN WRITING) OVER REAL OR IMAGINED THREATS...REMEMBER, YOU JUST GAVE UP YOUR RIGHT TO COMPLAIN THAT THEY DO NOT CONTACT YOU!!

NEVER WRITE NASTY E-MAILS ON YOUR WORK ACCOUNT WITH YOUR NAME, YOUR ORGANIZATION'S NAME, AND YOUR FUNCTION BOLDLY EMBLAZONED ON THE BOTTOM...PEOPLE TEND TO SAVE THOSE.


PARENTS:

LOVE YOUR CHILDREN EQUALLY!

DO NOT TAKE SIDES!


AND, EVERYONE:

CHECK YOUR PRIORITIES:

FLESH AND BLOOD...HEARTS AND SOULS,

SHOULD ALWAYS TRUMP

NUTS AND BOLTS...DOLLARS AND CENTS!


If, in your life, they DO NOT...then, Re-Evaluate, Re-Assess, and Re-Connect with those whom you have thrown away.

In the end that is what you will be judged upon NOT credenzas, NOT bank balances, NOT control, NOT ego...but, how well you loved through the hurt, real or imagined, that you endured.

May God Bless You and Yours and Keep You Safe.

CANCER CARE: END OF LIFE ISSUES

WARNING READ WITH CAUTION...THIS POST MAY CAUSE YOU TO CHANGE YOUR THINKING!

If you are looking for a fun post today, do yourself a favor, go to someone else's blog.

What you are about to read here is long, serious, controversial, and heartfelt.

Proceed with caution!

You have been warned!

Still here?

Okay, you asked for it.

Here Goes:

For almost 40 years of my life I was told I was an accident. My conception was the result of a bad fitting diaphragm. I know I must have learned about those in health class in public high school, but, I truly would not recognize one if I saw it. I believe it is a little cup like apparatus, but I could be wrong.

To add to the fact that I was "an accident," I was also born with several physical deformities, some of which (the ones in my heart) I did not even find out about until I was 38 years old. Currently, I am on 3 different heart meds and must be tested several times a year...in the future I may need corrective heart surgery...but, for now, the meds seem to be doing the job.

I was an "accident" to my mother; but, as I have told her time and time again, an "on-purpose" to God...a SURPRISE...a GIFT from heaven!



That is me, in the picture above, circa 1963.

Very possibly, if my accidental conception had occurred in the last thirty or so years in Wichita, Kansas, and Dr. Tiller was my mother's doctor, I would not be alive today. With ultrasound technology, he probably would have seen the missing ankle and toes, and partial foot; possibly recognized sooner the malformations of my heart and valves and would have suggested that my life would be difficult...that I was not viable.

I won't lie to you, my life hasn't been easy. As you can see, I wore a big metal brace on my right leg. I had one for day and one for night. They grew as I grew. Unfortunately, wearing that brace 24/7 was akin to binding my foot and leg and so, by the time I was ten years old there was about a 3-4 inch difference in leg length.

I was looking at old home movies the other night, and the limp I had as a child was almost unbearable to watch.

So, at ten years old I had major surgery on my left leg. The knee was removed and replaced upside down, and stapled back in so as to stunt the growth in that leg in the hopes, that the right leg would eventually catch up. To this day I have long scars on either side of my left knee (my mother called them railroad tracks). Today, I have less than an inch difference in leg length. I still need to buy two vastly different size shoes and have a lift put on the right shoe; I still walk with a limp.

As I grow older, I have more pain and difficulty; but, I have not worn a metal brace since I was 14 years old!!

When it was time to enter first grade, I had to meet with the pastor before being admitted. I realized much later, that he was probably trying to determine if the brace on my leg somehow constricted my brain. Since that was not the case, I was admitted and have always done well in academia.

My father's motto was: "If a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing well."

That lesson has served me for 48 years.

When the weather would get humid, the screws on either side of the brace would squeak when I walked. Sometimes, the big bolts on either side of the ankle would rub against my skin and cause painful welts. In the summer especially, perspiration would become trapped under the leather band that held the brace in place just under my knee, and I would develop a painful rash.

Between the brace and the large difference in leg length, I made quite a distinctive sound when I limped around elementary school. The kids would say: "Clickety clack, clickety clack, when you hear that you know it's Malack."

It's almost funny now, but back then, I wanted more than anything else in the world to be like those other kids. I was probably the only child in history who would have given anything in the world to get to go to gym, and wear those ugly green gym uniforms, rather than sit in the office or work in the library!

Because we wore uniform jumpers, and even when school was not in session my mother loved to put me in frilly dresses, my brace was almost always exposed. Grown people would stare at me ALL THE TIME. My mother would tell me they were ignorant and to ignore them.

As a child, I wanted nothing more than to throw that darn brace away and wake up one morning with a magically healed leg and foot (the miracles at Lourdes, held such promise for me), a closet filled with beautiful one size shoes (instead of those Herman Munster shoes, as I referred to them), beautiful long silky blond hair, and a great singing voice!

YEA...SO...MY...CHILDHOOD...WASN'T...PERFECT.

WAS YOURS?

Was YOUR figure perfect?

YOUR hair just right?

YOUR face clear of pimples?

Of course not!

So, who is to say BEFORE a child is born that his or her life is not worth living?

NOT me, NOT you, NOT a doctor, NOT ANYONE!!

So, how do we fix it?

Do we fix it by plastering, all over the Internet and outside abortion clinics, pictures of dead, decapitated babies (whose skulls have been crushed)?

Do we fix it by picketing abortion clinics and holding candlelight vigils outside, while we call to the woman entering and harass her as she is making probably the hardest decision of her whole entire life?

NO, I DON'T THINK SO!

BY THAT POINT, IT IS TOO LATE!!

When those horrible pictures come out...some of the same pictures I might add, that so many detractors of Dr. Tiller decry...Respect Life people appear as ghouls!

When women are called to from the street as they enter a LEGAL CLINIC, Respect Life people appear uncaring and harassing!

I have had many a woman come to my office over the years, and cry her heart out to me because she felt she had no one, and nowhere to turn when she had found herself pregnant, years earlier; and, ultimately with heavy heart, knowing she was excommunicating herself from her Church, nonetheless, decided on abortion.

I have had moms whose teenage daughters became pregnant, come and tell me that other teenage girls, after they found out the pregnancy was going to term, crushed out their lit cigarettes on the daughter's extended belly, all the while telling her to get an abortion. It's no big deal, they have had more than one!

TEENS AND PRE-TEENS ARE SAYING THIS!!

SEX IS NO BIG DEAL TO THEM!!

LIFE IS NO BIG DEAL TO THEM!!!

REACTION IS NOT THE ANSWER!

EDUCATION, COMPASSION, EDUCATION(Yes, I know I wrote that twice), PRIVATELY FUNDED ALTERNATIVES, COMPASSION, EDUCATION, and PRIVATELY FUNDED ALTERNATIVES ARE THE ANSWERS!!

Thirteen days ago, I wrote in this very space:

We have forgotten that a zygote, an embryo, a fetus, or any other scientific name you would prefer to use rather than BABY, carries with it this definition: a living organism, i.e. LIFE, growing under a woman's heart!

UNDER HER HEART!!!

If every little girl was taught from the earliest age, that babies grow under her heart maybe, just maybe, attitudes would change.

The time is NOW!

The NEED is GREAT!

Respect Life people: WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?

I can only do so much with the one hour a week, from September through April, my catechists and I get with the boys and girls!

We need YOU to fund alternatives that WE can talk about!

We need YOU to come up with curriculum, under the auspices of the Magisterium that WE can teach...not only in the parish and parochial schools, but also to be used as special assemblies and workshops in the public schools!

We need YOU to PRAY for every little girl in the world that she may grow up to value the priceless GIFT that God gives when HE gives us LIFE!!

WE NEED IT NOW!

WHAT are WE waiting for???