I wanted to bump this thread today. I saw this update from Wag last night on Facebook and I hope he doesn't mind that I'm sharing it here. I lurk over on his wall every few days to keep up with news of Nan, and recently he'd posted up something good, something that truly made me smile. Nan was visiting with a horse, and I know even though I've never met her, she loves horses. The photos Wag shared were so touching, my only reply was that "This is everything" because in those moments, for someone in the place she is in, it is. Anything to lift her up, to bring her a smile...she also celebrated her birthday recently, and so many that care so much about her sent the best of wishes from all over.
We've all likely had experience with watching someone we love struggle with a terminal illness, so if you have, you know. If you haven't, I can tell you from first hand experience you mark every moment with "This might be the last ___" and it's beyond hard to fathom what that truly means until you're going through it. I have a feeling Wag may be someone like I was when I watched my Dad, and it wasn't so much about all of my last moments with him, but what it must have been like for him knowing this may be his last birthday, last time seeing that dear friend or wearing a favorite shirt, hearing a favorite song, watching a favorite movie, or that last time seeing the sun rise or set. I feel for you Wag, always have, and haven't reached out enough directly, regrettably I fear, because I know when I was going through this, I wanted to focus on the person I was caring for and doing my best to cling to my sanity at the same time. I know there's nothing anyone can say to make this any better. You're not alone in what you're going through, know that. <3
With that, for those that know Wag here, I wanted to share this and just ask that we send them both all of our best, please...Wag posted this yesterday.
"I've been trying to find a way to let everyone know. The words are difficult in coming.
Last week, Nanette's oncologist let me know that she is showing the symptoms of the final stages of liver failure. In her estimation, she felt Nanette only had a "few days" remaining. Then she thought about it for a moment and said that we just never know with Nanette but with anyone else, there would only be a few days left.
I let the doctor know that Nanette had already been showing these symptoms for a several days.
To back up, about three weeks ago, Nanette took a sudden downturn. At that time, we determined that one of her meds hadn't been taken care of correctly so we fixed that problem and hoped that she would "recover" such as it is. After several days, it became clear that she was not going to regain her mental capacity. She has been operating with limited mental faculties ever since. We no longer feel that the meds are the cause of these problems.
I've lost her already. Her mind has gone and I fear she and I cannot have any further true dialogue. As of now, it's sufficient to me to make sure she is comfortable. She recognizes me and we can smile at each other knowingly. More and more, she sleeps without interruption for longer stretches. All I can do is watch over her.
We have seen Nanette surprise doctors so many times in the past that it's worthwhile to hope. Nevertheless, what I'm seeing with her is consistent with what the doctors have told me to expect.
My heart is broken. I can't write further."