Watching my sister die

I wrote this today thinking about my sister's write up "Watching my mother die" here: https://everything2.com/title/Watching+my+mother+die
Her write up is the fourth one down.

______________________________

Watching my sister die


I know before she does
but maybe not
maybe she knew
that last year

brave front
while soliciting money
on the internet
as the cancer progresses

she describes new treatments
I forget
how many rounds of chemo
she endured

eight years
from diagnosis
to death

I stop visiting
for a year
after she bullies 30K more
from our father

and he calls me crying

I give myself permission
to change
to be a physician
more than a sister

because as a sister
my sister is
cruel

she destroys my reputation
with my mother's family

or maybe they already
don't like me
because I think the family rules
are ludicrous and stupid

and I won't follow them

I suppose each generation
has someone who says
wait
these rules make no sense

why are we following these?

I think she will die
by February 2011
but there is another death
unexpected

the death of my hope
for a sister who loves me
for a sister who treats me well

for a sister who loves me

and I let that hope die
and I rise from the ashes
and I choose not to visit

and she uses this
tells people I won't visit
though I don't say I won't

people sent me checks

I sent them back
with thanks
saying

it is too soon
to leave my nascent business

my sister
stays in touch
this year

at last
in February 2012
she calls me

my oncologist
referred me to hospice
but I am not going

yes, I know
you are refusing to go

I don't saybut the cancer
is progressing
and like it or not

you will go

my sister
applies for a clinical trial
miles away

and at last
her enthralled circle
refuses

they say
we are so tired
we cannot drive you there

daily

I fly down
for a long weekend
and the hospice interview

I am excluded
but ask to step in
at the end

I ask the nurse
is this like where I live
that if there is a stroke

or a blood clot
or bleeding
or whatever horror

hospice will keep
her comfortable

but will not treat it?

yes

says the nurse

my sister stands
pushing away from the table
NO she says

I AM NOT READY

yes, I knew that

you are not going

I don't say
but you will go
willing or no

I fly down a second time
and as I leave
she cries

I am surprised

we have not talked
really

there are so many people
in and out
and I've been portrayed
as a villian

there is still time

I fly down a third time

she is angry, angry
now in hospice
angry that she is dying

I start to sing a lullaby
and she says NO

I study her
I sing Samuel Hall

To the gallows I must go
I must go
I must go

To the gallows I must go
with my friends all down below
saying Sam I told you so

damn their eyes
damn their eyes

saying Sam I told you so
damn their eyes

she smiles
a vicious secret smile

she is in renal failure
strange
says

I have to take a trip

I say yes
you do

I don't know how

You will figure it out

How will I find you?

I am surprised again
the connection is still there
buried deep

You said I can take the dragon home
the one I made in college
and gave you

You are born in the year of the dragon
you will have wings
find the dragon

and you will find me

oh, good
she says
relieved

she speaks of a bad pig

I say maybe it isn't bad
maybe it's done some bad things

she shakes her head

I say shall I take the
bad pig away?

she still is not satisfied

I guess: do you want me
to keep the bad pig
from hurting anyone else

yes
she smiles
yes

again we are alone

I am Bad she says

You are not bad
I say
You have done some bad things

Very bad

She is crying

I say I love you anyway

and she blooms
like a rose
soft in a dark orange blanket
with matching lip gloss

forgiven
and reconciled

flying home
I name the dragon
Bad Pig

and gird myself
for death

three days later
she dies

and then the fallout
and the aftermath
begins

_____________________

I will attach this to the Ragtag Daily Prompt "escapade", though I think of escapades as fun.
The escapade is the photograph. She and I were dancing before my wedding, in 2007.
I am the short one and clearly I was teasing her about something.

Sorrow never dies, quite.

Neither does love.


Dance the night away

I chose the word hospice for the Ragtag Daily Prompt today. Last weekend I traveled back to Port Townsend to see my friend who is in hospice. She is doing well, but I wish she had more visitors. She has a brother in Alaska, but has always been a fairly solitary person. Maybe I mind more than she does. She said that I was too far away, but no other complaints.

Last night I went to a dance and danced my socks off. This was a fundraiser for the plane in the photograph and the Commemorative Air Force that flies it and takes care of it. And I can’t credit the photographer, one of the gentlemen of the Commemorative Air Force, many thanks!

Isn’t it a fabulous poster? And a live band in a hanger at the airport, two food trucks, classic car and the plane and dancing.

It is nice to be alive.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: hospice.

On the road

My friend is still on the road, but moving closer to the end. Referral to hospice, now, though nothing is imminent. She is not home yet, though we hope to get her there. Yesterday another friend and I took her to see her cat. The cat is being cared for and is more social with everyone.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: end of the road.

Stages of Grief: anger

I am thinking of the songs that comfort me in grief.

And thinking about the stages of grief. Five, right? Denial, Bargaining, Anger, Grief and Acceptance. My sister said, “They left out Revenge and Acting Out. ” She died of cancer in 2012 at age 49. Six days after her birthday and the day after mine.

Anger songs for grief. But denial is first, right? Not necessarily. These are not stages you move through in a certain order. This is more like a spiral, where you go from one to the next and back to the start, from day to day or even hour to hour.

I’ve already written about My Name is Samuel Hall. That is an angry song, unrepentant, that my sister wanted the last time that I visited her. I knew that she was furious about dying and leaving her husband and daughter. And me and her friends.

My mother sang:

“Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, I think I’ll go eat worms. Big fat slimy ones, little tiny wiggly ones, see them wiggle and squirm. Bite their heads off, suck their guts out, throw the skins away. I don’t see how anyone can live on three meals of worms a day… without dessert….”

She also taught us this:

“I don’t want to play in your back yard
I don’t like you any more
You’ll be sorry when you see me
Sliding down my cellar door”

My parents had songs for every mood I can imagine. There were moods they would not speak about but they sang them.

My favorite angry groups are The Devil Makes Three, Hank Williams III, The Offspring, and Sweet Honey in the Rock.

Sweet Honey in the Rock? Yes. They sing about death a lot. This song is not about death: it’s about a “bad” woman, wanted dead or alive. But listen to the song: they are singing about a real event and a woman who fought back against a rape. On the thirty year album of Sweet Honey in the Rock, the group says that their first “hit” was this song, played by news stations. “It was a hint that we were not going to be top 40.” The song is Joanne Little.

So here are three songs by the others:

The Offspring: Why don’t you get a job?

The Devil Makes Three: All Hail

Hank Williams III: My Drinking Problem

And how do families show anger? They fight. They fight with each other. They fight about how someone should die, what should be done about mom, whether dad can live alone any more, about the right way to grieve. They fight about small things or big things and they even sue each other. Before you wade into the fray, step back. Remember, families grieving are always a little bit insane, very stressed and it’s all grief.

Hank Williams III: Country heroes

Blessings on the people I know in hospice right now and on their families and loved ones. Third one today. Sending love.

 

 

 

Songs to raise girls: My name is Samuel Hall

The last time I visit my sister in hospice, my cousin is sitting by the bed when I arrive.

My sister looks terrible and like she is suffering. She is in renal failure and her eyes are slitted against the light. She is in a hospital bed and barely eating. It takes me three days to figure out how to make her comfortable.

But when I first arrive, I say hello and hug her. She laughs and it is dark.

She doesn’t want to talk. “Shall I sing to you?” I ask.

She nods.

I start singing a lullaby: I gave my love a cherry.

She shakes her head: no.

I study her. “How about Samuel Hall?”

She smiles and nods.

“My name is Samuel Hall,
Samuel Hall, Samuel Hall.
My name is Samuel Hall
And I hate you one and all
you’re a bunch of buggers all
damn your eyes, damn your eyes
you’re a bunch of buggers all
damn your eyes.”

Another song to raise girls. We adored it, because it is unrepentant, horrible and had swears.

I killed a man tis said
and I left him there for dead
with a bullet in his head
damn his eyes

My cousin’s eyes widen. “I haven’t thought of that song in years.” he says. He starts singing along, remembering.

They took me to the quod
They left me there by God
With a ball and chain and rod
Damn their eyes

My cousin has two children. I guess he is not raising them with the dark songs we were raised with….

The preacher he did come
And he looked so goddamn glum
As he talked of Kingdom Come
Damn his eyes

My sister is smiling, eyes slit against the light, angry.

The sheriff he came too
With his boys all dressed in blue
They’re a bunch of buggers too
Damn their eyes

To the gallows I must go
With my friends all down below
Saying “Sam, I told you so.”
Damn their eyes

I see Nellie in the crowd
I am shouting right out loud
I shout “Nellie, ain’t you proud!
Damn your eyes!”

“Let this be my parting Nell
Hope to see you all in Hell
Hope to Hell you sizzle well
Damn your eyes!”

And my sister laughs and then she sleeps for a while, angry, angry at death.

My name is Samuel Small: http://www.wtv-zone.com/phyrst/audio/nfld/02/sam.htm
My name is Samuel Hall: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iSpk1t4WYNY
My name is Samuel Hall: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pxiPCw21T-w
and Johnny Cash: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ss_KyPfM1es

This is not the suffering photo. I can’t bear to post that….

Four myths about death

Currently I see myths about death and dying in the United States. These myths are very strong and lead to a disconnect between medical personnel and non-medical. The medical personnel talk about end of life and want the answers to certain questions. But we often fail to address the persons deep fears and concerns because medicine sees them as myths, and so there is a disconnect between what the patient and the medical person see as important about the discussion of death.

Here are the four questions and fears:

1. How can I avoid being kept alive on a machine?
2. How can I avoid dying in pain?
3. How can I avoid having too much done, too many resources used, and dying in a hospital?
4. How can I avoid dying of starvation or thirst?

1. How can I avoid being kept alive on a machine?

The myth here is that we can keep someone alive on a machine. We almost never can. Comas are extremely rare. There are a very few people who survive a high spinal cord injury, like Christopher Reeves, and can be kept alive for a period on a ventilator. Or people with a disease that leads to the failure of the breathing muscles: Steven Hawkings with ALS has outlived all predictions.

But for the most part we can’t. I have tried: I have had two patients in 25 years with brain death who had signed organ donor cards. When brain death is established, an organ donor team will fly in to a rural area. Meanwhile, I was to attempt to keep the patient’s body alive. One lived long enough and the other did not. I could not stop the death with machines or drugs and that person was already on a ventilator.

Part of this myth is fear relating to hospital settings. ICUs, intensive care units, frighten people. There are alarms going off and machines with blinking lights and it is brightly lit and quiet and alien. Why? If a person is on a ventilator, they are sedated. Otherwise they will automatically pull the breathing tube out or the urinary catheter or the iv or all of them. It is instinctive. They are sick, may be delirious or injured, they are not in their right minds, they are not logical. So they are sedated. Most of the alarms are rightly ignored by the nurses: most alarms are going off because the patient has moved and the machine is not picking up. The nurses learn to filter automatically which alarms are trivial and which alarms do need attention and are an emergency.

I wanted to see an elderly aunt. When I arrived, my cousin said I couldn’t because she was in the emergency room. I said that I am pretty comfortable in emergency rooms and thought I could talk my way back to see her, since I am a physician. We had to wait in the lobby for a couple of hours, but then they let me back.

Part of the drama and horror that shows up in ICUs is the family’s feelings. Family members may feel guilty or angry or afraid and they often lash out at each other. Families are both at their best and their absolute worst when someone is critically ill. I have a friend who still doesn’t speak to a sibling after their father died in hospice three years ago, because they disagreed so strongly on how he should be cared for. The hospital staff and nurses and doctors and maintenance people and laundry people and dietitians are used to families crying or arguing or even yelling at each other. We try to support the patient and the family. But we cannot make them agree and don’t try.

We will return to the “in hospital” death later.

2. How can I avoid dying in pain?

Wear your seatbelt, wear helmets, don’t drive in blizzards, change the batteries in your smoke alarm, don’t text while driving….

That seems like a joke, but not really. Accidents are in the top ten causes of death in the United States currently. People do die in pain if shot, in car accidents, in falls. If we can’t get to them and get pain medicine on board in time.

When death is coming, the fear is that we will die in pain from, for example, cancer. However, most people that I have seen dying of cancer DECREASE the pain medicine rather than increase. There are at least two reasons. One is that they want to be awake. As the kidneys fail, the pain medicine lasts longer. They may not need as much. If they are in hospice and have family present, my experience has been that they say “Turn it down. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.” They want to be awake with their family.

The second reason is that it really may hurt much less. When people stop eating and go into ketosis, some pain receptors are turned off. This is very interesting. I have been using it in clinic: my patients with osteoarthritis who try a ketotic diet say that the joint stops hurting when they become ketotic. One patient said that when her right hip stopped hurting entirely, she realized that the muscles from the left hip were very sore from limping. “After two weeks, I tried one piece of bread,” she said, “And the right hip joint pain came right back.” So a person with end stage cancer or end stage dementia, who does not want to eat, may have little pain or different pain.

Lastly, the most important pain when there is not a sudden violent death, is emotional pain. We may not want people to feel it, but it is better if we can stay present and let them. Stay present, stay kind, listen, do not shut them off. If we shut them off, it is because of our OWN fears.

3. How can I avoid having too much done, too many resources used, and dying in a hospital?

First, fill out a POLST form: Physician orders for life sustaining treatment. The first question is the one medical people want you to answer: if your heart and lungs STOP, and you are dead, do you want us to try to revive you? If someone is over 80, I don’t want to do CPR. I will break their ribs and if we DO get them back, they WILL have damage. People often say, “Bring me back if I will be ok.” I joke that we don’t have the little turkey pop up that says “Too late. Done.” But it is minutes until brain death. If you want to be revived, your best bet is to die in the emergency room in front of the emergency room staff. They can move very fast. The security guards in Las Vegas are also very very good at putting AEDs on people who drop dead from a big win or a big loss.

Living wills are better than nothing, but they often say “If two doctors agree that I am terminal within six months, no extraordinary measures.” This is entirely too vague. What do YOU mean by an extraordinary measure? A ventilator? Aspirin? An iv? No one has ever defined what an extraordinary measure is.

The other questions on a POLST form ask specifically about resources. Hopefully the medical person will explain a little: what is a ventilator, when would we use it, would oxygen be ok, are antibiotics ok, have you talked to your family about this? The POLST form can’t cover everything but it does give us an idea of what someone wants when they can’t talk to us. And it takes some of the burden off the family: father DID say what he wanted and it is in writing and he talked to his doctor about it. If you are the family, how are you going to decide what an extraordinary measure is?

Now: dying in a hospital. Our culture currently pays lip service to dying at home. Sort of. A survey of Veterans revealed THREE DIFFERENT IDEAL DEATHS. One: the Hallmark death, in hospice, at home, surrounded with friends and family making peace with the world. Two: Sudden death, no warning, no attention. Three: fight to the death. This person won’t go, will fight, a miracle is possible and they are NOT at acceptance. Do EVERYTHING.

And dying in a hospital. In residency in Portland I had two patients dying on my medicine rotation. One was a young man in his 20s, surrounded by family and friends, of HIV. He was in the hospital because that is where he felt comfortable and safe and could get immediate help. The friends asked if our team was tired of wading through a crowd to check on him each day. I replied, “No. I am so glad you are here. I have another person dying, and he has no one, an elderly man. He is alone except for me and the staff.” So we, the hospital staff, are the ones who try to comfort the elderly alcoholic dying, the cancer patient estranged from her family, the lost and depressed and solitary and addicted. And we don’t care what they did to get there, the sins committed, the regrets, the mistakes. We try to help as much as we can. I do addiction medicine in part because I felt so sad watching people with addiction die alone. So dying in the hospital is NOT a failure. Sometimes it is where the person feels safest or they don’t have anyone. And not having anyone is a failure of our culture, not of medicine.

4. How can I avoid dying of starvation or thirst?

When someone is dying of cancer or dementia or another slow disorder, they want to stop eating at some point. Sometimes the family gets them to continue eating and the patient will do so out of love for their family. They have no hunger or thirst. Renal failure sets in and the rising creatinine takes them into a gentle coma and then into the great mystery. This looks like a kind death to me: the brain is quietly sedated and put to sleep by the body, by the rising creatinine. Let them go. We will offer food and drink to anyone, but sometimes they are letting go….let them.

And here is a book I want and haven’t read yet: http://www.tc.umn.edu/~parkx032/AD-OUT-NET.html

Egg

E for egg and Easter egg. I was up very early this morning, excited about returning to work tomorrow, and am dying eggs. When my mother was in hospice in 2000, she said, “This will be the first time in 42 years that I have not dyed eggs.” My sister and I looked at each other and went to buy dye and eggs. My mother was staying in bed most of the time, but she got up and came to the dining room, to dye one egg. We hid the eggs and baskets on Easter and she watched out the window while her three grandchildren searched for the eggs. My daughter was two, niece was one and 1/2 and my son was seven. My mother died in May. I remember her every time I dye eggs.