March 11, 2008

This started on a Monday, March 10th. Actually before that. The previous week, I believe it was the previous Thursday, Shirley had a PET Scan at K.U. Medical Center. Mom, Kathy and I all went with Shirley. That next Monday Shirley got a call from her doctor saying that she needed to be seen the next afternoon. That's when I got the call from Shirley. Mom was sick and couldn't go, dad was going and would I go with her. I remember calling my husband and telling him that I had a really bad feeling about this. No way do doctors call you that quick to come in. But no matter what it was, we would take care of it. Almost all cancers have treatment, even a cure. Shirley had not been really sick, no weight loss. This had all come on so fast. So certainly we had caught it early.

I went to work on Tuesday morning a nervous wreck. I remember not getting much done and talking to co-workers and they were all assuring me that it would be fine. So I really had convinced myself of that. I left work I believe it was around 1:00...early afternoon anyway. And it really was a beautiful day. I got to KU Medwest early, about a half hour before Shirley and dad. I remember standing out on the sidewalk overlooking the highway thinking...how is this going to turn out? I also remember trying to put on my happy face and not show my fear to Shirley when she got there. Then they pulled upin dad's truck. Shirley had a nervous smile on her face. I hugged her so tight and assured her once again that everything was going to be fine. And she shook her head and agreed with me.

Looking back, I also realize how strong dad was trying to be. For his two daughters. So we went in. We were talking and laughing as usual. Pretending this was just any other appointment, when all 3 of us had this horrible feeling of dread. We sat in that waiting room forever it seemed. But they had just squeezed us in that day so we had to wait. And then the door opened, and in came this "not so nice" doctor. Shirley was sitting on the exam table, I was sitting in a chair next to her holding her hand and dad was on the other side of her. The doctor made some small talk, asking Shirley how she was feeling. And then I will never forget the serious look that came over this doctor's face. She told Shirley that she had the results from her tests and that they did not look good. They believed that she had this cancer on her liver but that was not the primary tumor. They were sure that it had origjnated in the bile duct (first time I have ever heard those words...bile duct). This cancer had spread. They found cancer in her rib, her hip bone, her spine and her lymph nodes. I remember after her saying this...I looked up at Shirley and she was starting to cry. I stood up and hugged her and dad was hugging her saying it's o.k. let's just listen to how we treat it. So we calmed down a bit and the doctor went on to say that this cancer was very advanced and that they did have chemo but it was considered only "palliative"...to help Shirley live longer and to keep her pain to a minimum. Also the first time I had heard palliative. Shirley was sobbing now and she looked at me and I will never forget as long as I live what she said. She said "It's in my bones. That will hurt and I can't take pain. You know I can't take pain". I promised her she would not be in pain. That they would do everything they could to keep her out of pain. The crying was uncontrollable really from this point on.

I do know at that point we started panicing. My poor dad. I remember standing there and hugging Shirley and my dad hugging us both. I am sure he had no idea how to comfort his daughter who was just told she was going to die. And it would be soon. The doctor sat down with Shirley and told her the chemo options that she had, and they all sounded awful. They do not even have treatment for bile duct cancer. They would be treating it as if it was Pancreatic cancer. She also told Shirley she should definitely get a second opinion. She told Shirley that she needed to get some x-rays of her bones to see how bad it was. At that point, the visit was coming to an end. The doctor looked at Shirley and asked her if she had any other questions. She did. Just one. "How long do I have" she asked. And the doctor said a year or maybe a year and a half. We all broke down again. We were in shock. The nurse came in and took Shirley down to x-ray while dad and I followed. Shirley went in to get her x-rays and left dad and I in the waiting room. I'm not sure either one of us knew what to do. Dad was comforting me and I was so glad he was there. We made a few phone calls. And then it was time to go home. I hugged her and cried some more. And then I left.

I got in my car and realized what had just happened. I called Kathy. I told her what the doctor had said and then I distinctly remember telling Kathy that Shirley was going to die. We were going to lose Shirley to this cancer. The rest of the night was spent talking to my children and husband. Playing in my head over and over what had just happened. I sat at my kitchen table and talked to people on the phone letting them know what we had heard. Telling them the most devastating news. People were in shock. I cried for 3 days straight I think. I now know what it feels like to actually be "in shock". I made up a photo album the next day of all of my pictures I had of Shirley. I think I was in mourning already. I knew she would die. I learned so much in that visit. I learned that if you are really sick, and that if you are really going to die, you will know just by looking at that doctor's face. Shirley really disliked that doctor but who can blame her. Who likes the person who has to give you that kind of news. Ironically, we did not see that doctor again until Shirley was admitted into K.U. in December. She was one of the doctors there seeing patients. I remember feeling sad Shirley had to see her again. Shirley didn't really care at that point. I still wonder if that doctor remembered us? Really, do any of the doctors remember Shirley? One day she was their patient and the next she wasn't. She was just gone.

So now ... a year later I can look back. I realize how sheltered my life was. How safe it was. How lucky I was. My family had always been safe and healthy and happy. I had my best friend with me for 40 years. And I didn't even realize it. A huge slap in the face. In a blink of an eye, it had all changed.

So today, I will cry. I will be sad that Shirley had to hear that awful news a year ago today. She never deserved to be told anything like that. To be that sad. I have never felt so helpless in my life when she was being told that news. There was not enough comfort in the world for her.

Pray for Shirley's family and friends today. Remember how much you loved her and how special she was. And I thank God for the time I had with her. And pray that I will be with her again soon.

Love,

Teresa