The Story
Over one year ago, my Mom, Elva Floyd, was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Today, she is 83 years of age and those who are medical professionals believe she is just days away from death. The change from last week when I was with her in Houston’s M.D. Anderson Cancer Hospital to yesterday in her home was very dramatic. She had just returned via ambulance from Houston less than 24 hours before and her care was turned over to Hospice and our family for her final days. A hospital bed has been set up in the home, placed in the living room so family and friends can be with her.
The Fight
Prior to getting leukemia, Mom had fought at least a year with a pre-leukemia condition, even taking chemotherapy treatments that would hopefully deter the looming leukemia diagnosis. Then, when this condition crossed over into full-blown leukemia, she was placed on another chemotherapy regimen. Upon being on this regimen without any success, she was given an experimental chemotherapy regimen, which also resulted in little success at all. Then, the conversation we knew would occur happened: “Mrs. Floyd, we would like to offer you one more experimental chemotherapy regimen and if it does not retard the cancer, then this is all we can do to help you.” We agreed and went for it. Mom was in the fight. Yet, those 16 pills a day after two weeks had to stop because of infection and virus that had attacked her body which now has little to no immunity at all. Then, the final conversation happened last Friday night: “We have done all we can for you. We will try to get you healthy enough to get you home and turn you over to Hospice Care.” When our family asked, “How long?” the response was, “Weeks.” Before she left on Tuesday afternoon from Houston, these weeks seem to lessen greatly.
Thoughts
Yesterday we spent the day with Mom and family. I just want to give you a few thoughts from the bedside of a leukemia patient that is moments away from death.
Cancer is a brutal disease
This was one of the summary statements of my son, Nick. My Mom who was a beautiful woman earlier in life and was gracing with beauty in her elder age, looks completely different. Her beauty is in her inner person who has walked with God for years, but her outer beauty has been diminished by this brutal disease. She has no hair. Her skin color is darkening. Her arms and legs are blotchy. She is skin and bones and barely can turn any direction at all in the bed. She is helpless physically, except for her extraordinary restlessness. She can barely speak in a whisper, moans regularly saying she is in pain all over, and is mentally in and out, even though yesterday she was “in with us” probably at least 80% of the time.
Hospice care is amazing
As a pastor I have known it and watched it, but today I really know it. They walked in with caring expertise, filled with sensitivity. I picked up and read a brief booklet on dying they had left with our family. We had seen my Mom walk through all of those stages and now are seeing the final moments. I felt as if I was reading the Bible talking about the last days and then watching them occur before my eyes. The value of hospice care will increase in this journey.
Care-givers are critical
How can I ever repay the love and care my sister, Linda, and my brother and sister-in-law, Johnny and Delores, have given to Mom? They live there in the small town of Yoakum, Texas, and have cared for Mom daily since Dad died suddenly six years ago this coming November. Linda moved in with Mom and Dad a year before Dad died. Yes, God knows all and takes care of us. How can I ever repay the love and care of close friends, a Baptist deacon and wife, James and Judy Leist? They have cared for Mom and Linda for a long time. They live right behind them, mow their lawn frequently, especially over this past year, and have insured Mom’s flower beds were re-done and perfect upon Mom’s arrival from Houston. Yes, care-givers are critical, even caring in the smallest of details.
Touch is necessary
For hours yesterday, I held my Mom’s hand or touched her shoulder, even reaching down to hug her which is no small ordeal. She seems so brittle and helpless, yet able to move her hands and arms. She wants human touch. She knows we are in the fight with her.
Talking is special
We talked to her continually. Her responses would be very limited, usually with a whisper, but she understands and can respond. She can say, “I love you.” Our words were mostly encouraging, informing her of family, showing her pictures (She did smile a little when she saw a funny picture of our youngest grandchild Jack) and of course filling her ears with thank-you’s, support, and love.
Worship is important
I returned to Mom’s bedside just steps away while the family was completing lunch. As I sat there a minute I felt as if God was saying to me: “Get your iPad, pull up Pandora music, and enter various hymns to play for her.” That is exactly what I did. For the next hour or so, I did this and Mom and I worshipped together. I heard her humming and even singing various words in a whisper. Tears filled her eyes as I played these old great hymns of the faith. Family saw her, joined us and we were all moved, as God walked in the room.
Prayer is critical
Before we departed, I prayed over Mom. We all stood beside her bed and interceded for her, releasing her to Jesus, asking God to fill her with His sweet peace. I asked God to send His angels to her and carry her home to the Father when her moment is up.
Final words are timely
Only God knows when He will call my Mom home, but as I watched and heard Nick and Meredith, Josh and Kate, and then Jeana give Mom some of those final words, they were timely. They were special. They were emotional. Then I gave her my final words filled with love and thanks, releasing her to go to heaven even then, and assuring her God is with her, of which she knows and senses. I kissed her on her head for each member of my family with a “love you” from each, even from our two grandchildren God is preparing to give us from Ethiopia sometime in 2012.
Christians do not say “good-bye”, but “see you later”
For at least three months, as I talked to Mom daily and saw her some, I stopped telling her good-bye, but see you later. It took discipline from me, but it is the truth. I told her yesterday I had been doing that. I believe she understood. Her final words yesterday to me were, “I Love You” and my final words as they have been for at least three months were, “Mom, I love you and I will see you later.”
If God brings Mom to your mind, pray for her. She is nearing going home to heaven. May the presence of God fill that house, the peace of God fill her life, and the angels of God usher her home into the presence of Jesus Christ.
Jesus is Lord over death.