Kramer Strong

It has been a grueling week.  Last Friday night, from 5:00 pm until after midnight, friends and family came to visit Melody.  Melody was asleep the entire time but we all said good-bye with selfish hopes that she would stay with us a little longer.  Saturday, March 23, 2013 at 12:30 in the morning Melody breathed her last.  The last visitor was still in the driveway heading out, I was next door grabbing a quick bite to eat, dad was in the basement fanning the fire, and Kerry was at his mom’s side.  He was saying his good-bye to his mom when she “said” her good-bye.  It has been said that Melody just did not want to leave the party and I believe that, but I also believe she was waiting to say goodbye to her son.  The next day was a blur.  Funeral arrangements, what to do?  What would Melody want?  This is not something I care to do anytime soon.  Sunday and Monday came and went.  Tuesday was the start of goodbye.  Many of my dad and Melody's friends and family came for the visitation Tuesday.  It was a sad and emotional day.  My parents and youngest brother, Caleb, came to support me from Minnesota.  My friends Ellen, Rana, and Crystal drove from Kansas and Amber flew with Aiden.  They came with the strength from my church to be with me.  It meant a lot to me to have family and friends come from so far to be with me during that impossible time.  It meant a lot to my Ohio family too that people would come from so far for such a short time.  They knew it was just to support me.  One realizes how much family and friends mean to them during difficult times.  I do not know what I would have done had they not been there.  Wednesday was the funeral.  It was a time of stories and memories being told.  I was to go last.  My time came to get up.  I was emotional and wanted to collect myself before I stood up to talk in front of everyone.  My Aunt Becky got up and came to where I was sitting.  She said she would go up with me.  She gave me the courage to get up and she helped me tell my story and memories of Melody.   She was there for me during one of the hardest times of my life.  I will never forget that.  She put her own feelings aside to be there for me.  Thursday, I decided that I would stay in Ohio for a couple more days.  My grandma was going to have a PET scan Friday to see if her cancer had spread to more places than just her left upper arm, which snapped Monday the 18^th.  My dad and I began a remodel on his house.  He and Melody were going to remodel their bedroom and tear down a couple walls but this project was put on hold because Melody was sick.  It all started when dad and I began by cleaning out Melody’s closet, which was not a fun project.  Tearing down the walls, well that was somewhat therapeutic.  Smashing a hammer into a wall and kicking down sheetrock… Friday came around.  I was riding with my Uncle Tom and we decided that this week, since last Friday, was the absolute longest week ever.  We were driving to meet my Aunt and Grandma for lunch.  When we were in the waiting room where we would meet Becky text me.  The text said, “looks like grandma may be admitted into the hospital.  Her doctor thinks the cancer has metastasized in several places. We are waiting on a radiologist confirmation and we may be looking at hospice.  The doctor does not think it will be long on hospice.”  What?!  This is what I was expecting to hear, but was hoping I would not be hearing.  The cancer was supposed to have only spread to the left arm.  I was going to go home in peace.  No, of course not why would it work like that?  You see in my family, it appears that when it rains, it pours.  I called human resources at work.  The FMLA paperwork that I had sent for my grandma was denied because grandparents are not covered in family medical leave.  I was devastated.  I text my cousin, Jenny, that I was not covered.  I sat down in the hallway in the hospital and cried, completely overwhelmed.  I thought I had had all I could handle BEFORE this.  Jenny called me.  She helped me collect myself and I was able to continue on.  Grandma is back at my aunt and uncles house.  Hospice has come to see her for their initial visit and we are waiting to see if grandma wants to stop dialysis or not.  If she does, the toxins in her body will build up and she will go into a sleep coma and go quietly and pain free.  If she continues dialysis she will continue living.  Either way with the cancer in so many places her bones are liable to break at any moment and she will just continue to be in excruciating pain with broken bones that will not heal.  It is her choice.  I was talking to Becky today, she encouraged me to be strong, “Kramer Strong”.  She said she told Melody back in December that when one becomes a Kramer or if they have the Kramer blood in them they are Kramer Strong.  If Melody can be Kramer Strong so can I.

How to say good-bye

How do you say good-bye to someone you love?  There is no way to prepare the heart and mind for the ultimate good-bye.  I had been trying to be prepared.  I can prepare for a trip and have everything I need ready or prepare myself to go non-stop for a time, but to prepare myself to say good-bye...  I’m not talking about the “see you later’, or “until next time”.  What happened to the wedding day excitement with her or the “so I met this guy” conversation or the exclaimed “I’m pregnant!” or “here hold your grandchild.”   What about the laughter from inside jokes so that we laugh so hard “water gushes out of our eyes and our cheeks hurt”?  Those kinds of days still make me smile.  Techniques I gained in the kitchen will never be forgotten and recipes you shared will always be a favorite.  I still remember, before I had the privilege of meeting you, getting packages from you and dad. I do not remember all that was in the packages but I remember the envelope that you had colored the sun and rainbow on before you shipped it out.  I still remember when you used the colored pens you sent to me and wrote a note using each pen color.  When I met you, you took me in as if I were your own.  You took me shopping and you told me what colors looked good on me.  We stared at the kitchen gadgets saying how each would be handy.  We feasted on the food network, when is now lovingly referred to as “food porn.”  You took me to my first pedicure.  You have helped me get presents for my dad, who we both know is impossible to buy for.  We even ganged up on dad when I came to visit.  I remember the day when I said “you don’t have to like me you know.  I have seen other step-children and their parents, they do not get along.”  You looked at me and just reassured me that we are not like other families.  I know the time and place and even the person we were talking to when you first called me your daughter.  We were loading a refrigerator for a doctor friend of yours and we were outside of his apartment complex.  I was honored that day and I still am honored to be called your daughter.  You drove twelve hours one way to visit me this past year.   You were all by yourself and on vacation from work and you came to see me.  That meant a lot then and even more now.  I told everyone I knew you were coming because I was so excited.  While you were in Kansas, I learned what your “not surprised face” looks like.  You also gave me tips to keep my house from getting dusty and even decorating ideas.  To be honest, I could go on and on about the different things you have taught me through the years, but the thing I learned the most was learned just by watching you.  You put others first just as you put me first.  I learned you were Heidi's best friend while she was in high school.  You took her out on your own initiative and bought her clothing to wear to our grandpa’s funeral.  You did the blood work and were the first to say, "yes, Jenny, you are pregnant."   My aunt may have dressed my dad up in dresses and the such, but you are the only true sister she has ever known.  I have learned many things from you.  Things that I would prefer to not learn right now but I am anyway.  I am learning things like a day should never be taken for granted.  Time with those we love should never be wasted.  The continuation of things learned from you may have come to a halt, but those that I have learned will stay with me through my life.  I will pass them down to my children and say “your Gram Melody taught me…”  You will not be forgotten and your legacy will continue.  After all you have a son and a daughter.

Moving days

Wednesday was the big day.  Melody wanted to go to the nursing home so we packed up her necessities and away we went.  We arrived late in the afternoon and Melody was settled in good timing.  There was no longer the fear in her eyes that she had at home.  She had been terrified of falling and it had been written all over her face.  I was at ease because she was at ease.  My cousin, Heidi, and I talked with the nurse about the medications that she needed that night and we were assured that she would receive them.  The medications were her pain and cough medicine that she only took at night so we thought it important for her to be given them.  Is it too much to write that not only did we move Melody but we also moved my grandma to an assisted living facility the same day?  Since Grandma broke her arm she needs more care and attention then we can give at this time with Melody as frail as she is.  Wednesday night we all settled down and felt a little more at ease knowing that neither Melody nor Grandma would fall during the night and their basic needs would be met.  Thursday morning rolled around.  I stayed at my dad’s house to “clean up a bit” but really to give him and Melody a little time together by themselves.  I thought this would be good for both of them.  I was working away with my Aunt Becky, my dad’s only sibling, and suddenly my dad appeared.  He said “Melody is in pain and the nursing home does not have any medication to give her.”  WHAT?!  I was angry and my dad was outraged.  I do not like people to be in pain and as a nurse if my patient is in pain I will bug my doctors until my patient's pain is relieved.  To see someone I love in pain with no pain reliever…you do not want to know.  To make a long story short, the nursing home did not have prescriptions from the nursing home doctor so she did not have the pain medications.  I will go no further on the subject.  Dad grabbed her home medications and with my blessing he gave her her home medications for pain relief.  As it is with pain if it gets uncontrolled it is next to impossible to reign it back in.  I quickly finished up what I was doing and went up to see Melody.  She was not comfortable.  The nurse apologized, I understood I hate the paperwork process too, then I asked them what I needed to do to get her the appropriate pain medications.  I could do nothing, my dad had given her the medicine and we were still waiting for the effects.   Hospice was coming at 3:30 that afternoon and I could not wait until they got there, I knew they would be able to help Melody.  Now I am not exaggerating on the discomfort that Melody was experiencing.  The hospice nurse arrived and after only looking at Melody she was in gear to get her pain medicine as soon as she could.  Melody was in too much “discomfort” (Melody never complains and is never in pain she is only "uncomfortable") for her liking.  The hospice nurse said it usually took a day to get the medications, but she was going to call around and talk to her boss and their doctor to get the medications before we moved Melody back home.  Oh yeah, Melody decided that afternoon that if she has to be uncomfortable at the nursing home then she may as well be uncomfortable at home.  I gathered up all of Melody’s belongings and we waited a short while for the pain medications.  Melody transferred well back home and we helped her get to bed.  My dad had already moved the king sized bed into the living room for her and she slept soundly.  My aunt, dad, and I sat in the living room that evening reminiscing.  Later that evening my aunt and I headed next door and dad snuggled in next to his wife, right where he wanted to be all along.  Melody had a bad night, she was uncomfortable and gasping for air.  This morning when I came over she was comfortable again.  The hospice nurse came by and said Melody looked a lot more comfortable than she did yesterday and to call if we needed anything.  Right now, I am sitting here watching Melody and listening to my dad and Kerry, Melody’s son and only natural child, converse.  As hard as it is being here I am right where I need to be.

Two Places at Once

I arrived in Upper late Monday night.  I knew that I would continue on my fast pace so I said my hellos at my dad's house and I went over next door to my aunt and uncles house to go to bed.  This is where I am staying this visit. The next morning I thought I was superwoman.  My uncle Tom kept calling my Becky, my aunts name, because I guess I am like her in a lot of ways.  Being superwoman is one of those ways.  I thought I could go between the two houses and help take care of my Grandma and Melody.  Well, as is stated in the previous sentence "I thought I could take care of both."  I was over more helping my grandma more than over with Melody.  My grandma has a newly broken upper arm and is 83 years old so she needed a lot attention.  My uncle and I took my grandma to a doctor’s appointment in the afternoon.  As I had suspected, my grandma's arm did not just randomly break but there was an underlying issue.  Her liver cancer has more than likely spread, again, to the left arm right where it broke.  We did not do any further x-rays to see where else it may have spread, but we know it may have spread to other bones as well.  She will go in a week or so to the Ohio State University Hospital to an older adult bone cancer specialist for a consult.  Surgery will probably follow, more for comfort measures than anything else.  The bone really will not heal because of the lesion.  Biopsies will be taken during the surgery so we will then know what we are dealing with.

In the meanwhile, Melody was at home all day and she was not feeling well.  Once Grandma was settled back at my aunt and uncles house I went back over to see Melody.  I do not have the strength or resources to move her around a lot without help so she was in bed all day.  I felt sad and not for myself.  This is hard for me, yes, but it is the hardest on her.  She has always been a very strong person and now she is too weak to even sit up on her own.  The once independent person is now completely dependent on others for every necessity in life.  I do not even claim to understand her situation, how could I?  I had a plan for the next day that I knew would work perfectly.  I am superwoman don’t you forget, I can do anything I set my mind to.  Well, can I just say things don’t always go as expected? I know this may come as a surprise to some but I am, after all, not superwoman.  I know that in the future I will once again become superwoman, but right now I am more bleak in my outlook.  Melody is going to a nursing home today.  It is a decision she made last night.  I want her to have as much independence as she can.  She can make her own decisions for her life so I am going to help her.

The Autobahn

I do not even know how to begin or even where to begin.  Monday, March 11^th, Melody went in for a scheduled appointment with her oncologist.  This oncologist has always been unreasonably optimistic mind you.  The appointment this time, he was not.  It was a grave appointment.  He told Melody and my dad, Mike, that the cancer was growing and that her liver was extremely compromised.  She needed to start IV chemo, Taxol, right away.  This would attack the cancer in her liver and her life would be prolonged.  If we did not start the new regime then she may have only a few weeks to live.  This put all of us in high gear, if I were in my car I would have down shifted to 4^th for that extra boost.  I decided that I would leave for Ohio Monday the 18^th instead of the beginning of April.  The doctor also made an appointment for her to get another PET scan, this is a scan that shows the body and any place cancer may be hiding or growing.  That Thursday dad took her to the PET scan appointment.  Friday she was scheduled to have the first bout of Taxol.  As is turned out, Melody was too weak to go to the appointment, it was rescheduled.  Friday, my dad went to his primary doctor for a check-up.  While he was there this physician began talking to my dad about quality versus quantity of life.  Later that evening, I called my dad and he began talking to me about this new thought process.  I have always been a huge advocate of quality of life over quantity, I just have never been faced with it on a personal level.  Dad said he was going to talk to Melody about this in the next couple days.  Sunday, March 17^th, I was told Melody was going to stop all chemo medications.  I knew this was the best thing for her, but oh it hurt.  I just wanted to curl up and pretend life did not exist.  One of my dear friends kept me going though, I still needed to pack to go up to Ohio!  I went to bed with the aid of Benadryl and I slept horribly.  My throat was on fire and my whole body ached.  I had worn my body to the point of exhaustion and I was feeling the effects.  The next morning I began my drive to Ohio.  On the way the roads were not so great, but the worst thing that happened on the trip is the phone call that I received.  My grandma, who has been fighting liver cancer for four years and who is now on dialysis broke her upper arm when she was just trying to sit up.  Really!  Does it ever end!?  How much more can my family take?  My aunt Becky said it appropriately when she said “ we should be freakishly strong one day.”  I just wish I could be that strong right now.