Talk Cancer

Question:

I hear loud and clear! =) I’m just thankful that when she did go it was very quick. she went with her children and husband around her…. the friends she made at the hospital…. even one of her "sitters" (I guess they’re like candy stripers) came to the funeral. she’s so incredible… not just when she was here physically but especially now because she’s free….. =) I’m just concerned about my grampa’s heart… I know it’s broken…. but physically, he’s been having trouble with it…. I know that he may not be around much longer either… it’s sometimes strange how the older generation goes in groups…. sometimes I feel like there’s not enough time to learn all that they have to teach. either way, what we do learn, I’ve learned to hang on to.

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – and to those who didn’t know what to say…. I saw my grandma one last time on Sunday morning…. just hours before her funeral. *sigh* Funeral….. it certainly makes it final, doesn’t it? She fought a good fight. in the end… it wasn’t the cancer that took her but the congestive heart failure. a few weeks ago, when she was first on the hospice unit in the hospital, she and i talked on the phone and she told me that I was her mentor. I wasn’t sure what she meant until I saw her on Sunday…. I realized that back in 2000, just before I graduated with my degree, I had worked the cancer unit at the VA hospital…. I saw something that has haunted me every single day since….. and it frightened me out of the medical field for a while. what had happened directly involved one of my cancer patients. my grandma was the first person I called to talk to about the situation. she knew I was scared to go back… she also had faith that I would go back…. but I needed a little  (as she put it) noodge. Last year, when I found out she had cancer, it was like a stake was driven through my heart… she asked me what she could expect…. and in her words: "dammit, don’t sugar coat it! I want it blunt and honest" and blunt and honest it was. it was as if I coached her through the disease. I was on the phone with her almost every single day since her diagnosis up until almost the end. Then on Sunday, I visited the funeral home and as I gently reached out to touch her cheek, I heard my grandfather sobbing behind me. I held him close…. then I sat down with him and told him that her body was so very very sick…. then I told him that 51 years of marriage was such a wonderfully long time and that I hope that one day I can say that…. I told him that he was her world as she was to him and that they both complimented each other wonderfully…. I held him for a while… then when I thought everyone had left, I touched her arm and said, "I now know what it was you wanted to teach me….. when you called me your mentor, I thought you had it backwards….  I’m honored to have been able to "mentor" you but the truth is, you’re my mentor…. I made you a promise, I intend to keep it." and with that, I left…… knowing that I"d never see her physically again. she taught me how to not fear illness and the need that patients have for their nurse’s care…. she taught me how to accept the trails and turn it into triumph. she taught me how to be gentle with myself…. Now I need to learn how to heal. (((((HUGS)))))) Yesterday is in the past, Live for today, you’re not guaranteed any tomorrows…. Ah luv, I was taken aback at how quickly things went (and didn’t know what to reply) so thank you for sharing. I’m so glad you had such a wonderful relationship with your grandmother. I can’t just picture her talking to you and giving you a noodge I feel so bad for your grandfather too. He must feel so alone now. ( ( ( ( Skykitten and grandfather ) ) ) ) You take care of each other, hear? J

Response:

yep, J, thats what we are here for–to live and breathe and care for one another. mark-h ( i know, i’m an incurable top poster)

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – I hear loud and clear! =) I’m just thankful that when she did go it was very quick. she went with her children and husband around her…. the friends she made at the hospital…. even one of her "sitters" (I guess they’re like candy stripers) came to the funeral. she’s so incredible… not just when she was here physically but especially now because she’s free….. =) I’m just concerned about my grampa’s heart… I know it’s broken…. but physically, he’s been having trouble with it…. I know that he may not be around much longer either… it’s sometimes strange how the older generation goes in groups…. sometimes I feel like there’s not enough time to learn all that they have to teach. either way, what we do learn, I’ve learned to hang on to. Dear skykitten, hang on to your grandfather please (not literally but you know what I mean). Spend as much time as you possibly can with him, nothing’s permanent, but they have to much to teach us and us they. Mine died shortly after my grandmother did. Maybe coincidence, but he missed her so much, I think he lived and breathed to care for her and about her. Huggs. J

Response:

I hear loud and clear! =) I’m just thankful that when she did go it was very quick. she went with her children and husband around her…. the friends she made at the hospital…. even one of her "sitters" (I guess they’re like candy stripers) came to the funeral. she’s so incredible… not just when she was here physically but especially now because she’s free….. =) I’m just concerned about my grampa’s heart… I know it’s broken…. but physically, he’s been having trouble with it…. I know that he may not be around much longer either… it’s sometimes strange how the older generation goes in groups…. sometimes I feel like there’s not enough time to learn all that they have to teach. either way, what we do learn, I’ve learned to hang on to.

Dear skykitten, hang on to your grandfather please (not literally but you know what I mean). Spend as much time as you possibly can with him, nothing’s permanent, but they have to much to teach us and us they. Mine died shortly after my grandmother did. Maybe coincidence, but he missed her so much, I think he lived and breathed to care for her and about her. Huggs. J

Response:

thats wonderful, sly you will heal, for the healing you offered and offer still, is yours as well as hers. how God has blessed you!  thank you for coming from your heart here… its a big one. mark-h

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – and to those who didn’t know what to say…. I saw my grandma one last time on Sunday morning…. just hours before her funeral. *sigh* Funeral….. it certainly makes it final, doesn’t it? She fought a good fight. in the end… it wasn’t the cancer that took her but the congestive heart failure. a few weeks ago, when she was first on the hospice unit in the hospital, she and i talked on the phone and she told me that I was her mentor. I wasn’t sure what she meant until I saw her on Sunday…. I realized that back in 2000, just before I graduated with my degree, I had worked the cancer unit at the VA hospital…. I saw something that has haunted me every single day since….. and it frightened me out of the medical field for a while. what had happened directly involved one of my cancer patients. my grandma was the first person I called to talk to about the situation. she knew I was scared to go back… she also had faith that I would go back…. but I needed a little  (as she put it) noodge. Last year, when I found out she had cancer, it was like a stake was driven through my heart… she asked me what she could expect…. and in her words: "dammit, don’t sugar coat it! I want it blunt and honest" and blunt and honest it was. it was as if I coached her through the disease. I was on the phone with her almost every single day since her diagnosis up until almost the end. Then on Sunday, I visited the funeral home and as I gently reached out to touch her cheek, I heard my grandfather sobbing behind me. I held him close…. then I sat down with him and told him that her body was so very very sick…. then I told him that 51 years of marriage was such a wonderfully long time and that I hope that one day I can say that…. I told him that he was her world as she was to him and that they both complimented each other wonderfully…. I held him for a while… then when I thought everyone had left, I touched her arm and said, "I now know what it was you wanted to teach me….. when you called me your mentor, I thought you had it backwards….  I’m honored to have been able to "mentor" you but the truth is, you’re my mentor…. I made you a promise, I intend to keep it." and with that, I left…… knowing that I"d never see her physically again. she taught me how to not fear illness and the need that patients have for their nurse’s care…. she taught me how to accept the trails and turn it into triumph. she taught me how to be gentle with myself…. Now I need to learn how to heal. (((((HUGS)))))) Yesterday is in the past, Live for today, you’re not guaranteed any tomorrows….

Response:

and to those who didn’t know what to say…. I saw my grandma one last time on Sunday morning…. just hours before her funeral. *sigh* Funeral….. it certainly makes it final, doesn’t it? She fought a good fight. in the end… it wasn’t the cancer that took her but the congestive heart failure. a few weeks ago, when she was first on the hospice unit in the hospital, she and i talked on the phone and she told me that I was her mentor. I wasn’t sure what she meant until I saw her on Sunday…. I realized that back in 2000, just before I graduated with my degree, I had worked the cancer unit at the VA hospital…. I saw something that has haunted me every single day since….. and it frightened me out of the medical field for a while. what had happened directly involved one of my cancer patients. my grandma was the first person I called to talk to about the situation. she knew I was scared to go back… she also had faith that I would go back…. but I needed a little  (as she put it) noodge. Last year, when I found out she had cancer, it was like a stake was driven through my heart… she asked me what she could expect…. and in her words: "dammit, don’t sugar coat it! I want it blunt and honest" and blunt and honest it was. it was as if I coached her through the disease. I was on the phone with her almost every single day since her diagnosis up until almost the end. Then on Sunday, I visited the funeral home and as I gently reached out to touch her cheek, I heard my grandfather sobbing behind me. I held him close…. then I sat down with him and told him that her body was so very very sick…. then I told him that 51 years of marriage was such a wonderfully long time and that I hope that one day I can say that…. I told him that he was her world as she was to him and that they both complimented each other wonderfully…. I held him for a while… then when I thought everyone had left, I touched her arm and said, "I now know what it was you wanted to teach me….. when you called me your mentor, I thought you had it backwards….  I’m honored to have been able to "mentor" you but the truth is, you’re my mentor…. I made you a promise, I intend to keep it." and with that, I left…… knowing that I"d never see her physically again. she taught me how to not fear illness and the need that patients have for their nurse’s care…. she taught me how to accept the trails and turn it into triumph. she taught me how to be gentle with myself…. Now I need to learn how to heal. (((((HUGS)))))) Yesterday is in the past, Live for today, you’re not guaranteed any tomorrows….

Response:

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -and to those who didn’t know what to say…. I saw my grandma one last time on Sunday morning…. just hours before her funeral. *sigh* Funeral….. it certainly makes it final, doesn’t it? She fought a good fight. in the end… it wasn’t the cancer that took her but the congestive heart failure. a few weeks ago, when she was first on the hospice unit in the hospital, she and i talked on the phone and she told me that I was her mentor. I wasn’t sure what she meant until I saw her on Sunday…. I realized that back in 2000, just before I graduated with my degree, I had worked the cancer unit at the VA hospital…. I saw something that has haunted me every single day since….. and it frightened me out of the medical field for a while. what had happened directly involved one of my cancer patients. my grandma was the first person I called to talk to about the situation. she knew I was scared to go back… she also had faith that I would go back…. but I needed a little  (as she put it) noodge. Last year, when I found out she had cancer, it was like a stake was driven through my heart… she asked me what she could expect…. and in her words: "dammit, don’t sugar coat it! I want it blunt and honest" and blunt and honest it was. it was as if I coached her through the disease. I was on the phone with her almost every single day since her diagnosis up until almost the end.

It sounds like your grandma was lucky to have you in her life, and that you were equally blessed with her presence in yours. – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -Then on Sunday, I visited the funeral home and as I gently reached out to touch her cheek, I heard my grandfather sobbing behind me. I held him close…. then I sat down with him and told him that her body was so very very sick…. then I told him that 51 years of marriage was such a wonderfully long time and that I hope that one day I can say that…. I told him that he was her world as she was to him and that they both complimented each other wonderfully…. I held him for a while… then when I thought everyone had left, I touched her arm and said, "I now know what it was you wanted to teach me….. when you called me your mentor, I thought you had it backwards….  I’m honored to have been able to "mentor" you but the truth is, you’re my mentor…. I made you a promise, I intend to keep it." and with that, I left…… knowing that I"d never see her physically again. she taught me how to not fear illness and the need that patients have for their nurse’s care…. she taught me how to accept the trails and turn it into triumph. she taught me how to be gentle with myself…. Now I need to learn how to heal.

Very important lessons, indeed. Hugs, Michele – Hide quoted text — Show quoted text -Yesterday is in the past, Live for today, you’re not guaranteed any tomorrows….

Response:

- Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – and to those who didn’t know what to say…. I saw my grandma one last time on Sunday morning…. just hours before her funeral. *sigh* Funeral….. it certainly makes it final, doesn’t it? She fought a good fight. in the end… it wasn’t the cancer that took her but the congestive heart failure. a few weeks ago, when she was first on the hospice unit in the hospital, she and i talked on the phone and she told me that I was her mentor. I wasn’t sure what she meant until I saw her on Sunday…. I realized that back in 2000, just before I graduated with my degree, I had worked the cancer unit at the VA hospital…. I saw something that has haunted me every single day since….. and it frightened me out of the medical field for a while. what had happened directly involved one of my cancer patients. my grandma was the first person I called to talk to about the situation. she knew I was scared to go back… she also had faith that I would go back…. but I needed a little  (as she put it) noodge. Last year, when I found out she had cancer, it was like a stake was driven through my heart… she asked me what she could expect…. and in her words: "dammit, don’t sugar coat it! I want it blunt and honest" and blunt and honest it was. it was as if I coached her through the disease. I was on the phone with her almost every single day since her diagnosis up until almost the end. Then on Sunday, I visited the funeral home and as I gently reached out to touch her cheek, I heard my grandfather sobbing behind me. I held him close…. then I sat down with him and told him that her body was so very very sick…. then I told him that 51 years of marriage was such a wonderfully long time and that I hope that one day I can say that…. I told him that he was her world as she was to him and that they both complimented each other wonderfully…. I held him for a while… then when I thought everyone had left, I touched her arm and said, "I now know what it was you wanted to teach me….. when you called me your mentor, I thought you had it backwards….  I’m honored to have been able to "mentor" you but the truth is, you’re my mentor…. I made you a promise, I intend to keep it." and with that, I left…… knowing that I"d never see her physically again. she taught me how to not fear illness and the need that patients have for their nurse’s care…. she taught me how to accept the trails and turn it into triumph. she taught me how to be gentle with myself…. Now I need to learn how to heal. (((((HUGS)))))) Yesterday is in the past, Live for today, you’re not guaranteed any tomorrows….

Ah luv, I was taken aback at how quickly things went (and didn’t know what to reply) so thank you for sharing. I’m so glad you had such a wonderful relationship with your grandmother. I can’t just picture her talking to you and giving you a noodge I feel so bad for your grandfather too. He must feel so alone now. ( ( ( ( Skykitten and grandfather ) ) ) ) You take care of each other, hear? J

Response:

– Hide quoted text — Show quoted text – and to those who didn’t know what to say…. I saw my grandma one last time on Sunday morning…. just hours before her funeral. *sigh* Funeral….. it certainly makes it final, doesn’t it? She fought a good fight. in the end… it wasn’t the cancer that took her but the congestive heart failure. a few weeks ago, when she was first on the hospice unit in the hospital, she and i talked on the phone and she told me that I was her mentor. I wasn’t sure what she meant until I saw her on Sunday…. I realized that back in 2000, just before I graduated with my degree, I had worked the cancer unit at the VA hospital…. I saw something that has haunted me every single day since….. and it frightened me out of the medical field for a while. what had happened directly involved one of my cancer patients. my grandma was the first person I called to talk to about the situation. she knew I was scared to go back… she also had faith that I would go back…. but I needed a little  (as she put it) noodge. Last year, when I found out she had cancer, it was like a stake was driven through my heart… she asked me what she could expect…. and in her words: "dammit, don’t sugar coat it! I want it blunt and honest" and blunt and honest it was. it was as if I coached her through the disease. I was on the phone with her almost every single day since her diagnosis up until almost the end. Then on Sunday, I visited the funeral home and as I gently reached out to touch her cheek, I heard my grandfather sobbing behind me. I held him close…. then I sat down with him and told him that her body was so very very sick…. then I told him that 51 years of marriage was such a wonderfully long time and that I hope that one day I can say that…. I told him that he was her world as she was to him and that they both complimented each other wonderfully…. I held him for a while… then when I thought everyone had left, I touched her arm and said, "I now know what it was you wanted to teach me….. when you called me your mentor, I thought you had it backwards….  I’m honored to have been able to "mentor" you but the truth is, you’re my mentor…. I made you a promise, I intend to keep it." and with that, I left…… knowing that I"d never see her physically again. she taught me how to not fear illness and the need that patients have for their nurse’s care…. she taught me how to accept the trails and turn it into triumph. she taught me how to be gentle with myself…. Now I need to learn how to heal. (((((HUGS)))))) Yesterday is in the past, Live for today, you’re not guaranteed any tomorrows….

((((( slykitten ))))) Trish

Response: