Hard Words

Yesterday a sweet woman, the wife of a patient, came to my office to talk about "hard things that require hard words." She and her husband are fairly new to the hospital, but I've fallen in love with them. Such gentle spirits, so kind and loving-- towards each other and everyone around them!

It turned out that this precious woman wanted to talk about what should happen if her husband died here at our hospital, instead of at their home in Houston. She asked hard questions (how long before they take his body from me?, where will they keep him?, how do I decide when to discontinue life support if it comes to that?, and probably my favorite-- is a person actually gone when they go on life support or when it's removed?). She was very brave. As we talked I commented on her bravery and she told me, "I just love him so much that, if the time comes and he's going to die, I want to be able to completely focus on him and nothing else." Oh my heart.

We talked for about 90 minutes and she was brave and strong until the last question, which was "Will he go home with me or will I have to leave him here and have him flown home by himself?" She started to crack, tried to calm herself but just burst out with tears and deep sobs. I held her tight as her tears dripped down my neck. I wanted to scream. I hate cancer more every day.

I love these two people! They've asked me to stay near if things get bad, so I can be with them when he dies. They say they'll need me. I think they'll be fine. My deep, deep desire is that this dear man lives a long time so they have more time to love each other and show the rest of us how it's done.

I am blessed to know this couple, to be a part of their life at a time when they are so vulnerable. As much as I hate cancer, it has brought me yet another picture of love and I am thankful for that.