Hospice

Thursday, September 24, 2015

I'm totally late!  My acupuncture treatment ran overtime.  I'm late for a 1 o'clock appointment at my house.  It's 1:14pm now.  Pushing the door open, I propel myself out of my dad's car.  Shuffling over to my front door, I greet the lady who's been patiently waiting.  Hastily, I reach out my right hand and give hers a firm shake.  Inviting her inside, we settle on the couch. 

"So, what's today's appointment about?"

"Your doctor referred you to our services for hospice care."

Wait.  Wait a minute!  I know I requested palliative care after discussing the difference from hospice with a nurse at Stanford.  I thought the nurse was going to request palliative care referral from my cancer doctor so that I can discuss options in pain management?  What happened?  Cautiously, I speak up the clarify what actually got ordered: "Hospice can only be requested when the patient is expected to pass away in less than 6 months right?"

"Correct.  Under hospice care, your insurance pays us a lump sum and we take care of all your needs.  No more chemo or surgeries.  Nothing to prolong your life.  When you sign these papers, you're agreeing to request any needs that you want met to be carried through our company.  At any time, you can back out of hospice care."

Still in shock that my cancer doctor considered my lifespan to be less than 6 months, I sign all the papers placed in front of me.  After all, I do not intend to go through any more chemotherapy and surgery is already out of the equation.  Sure, why not try hospice?  The concept of people coming to my house for services I need met is very appealing.  No more driving out to clinics or being exposed to bumpy car rides for appointments.  Great!

Friday, September 25, 2015

*ring ring*  My cellphone buzzes next to my head.  "Hello?"

"Hi Kristy.  This is the nurse manager from the hospice care company.  So, the doctor wrote you for prescription hydrocodone.  You take these pills every..."

My mind blanks out.  Hydrocodone... this medicine sounds so familiar... ah, it's Vicodin.  I hate that stuff!  Not only does it not cut out the pain for me, it makes me unable to even walk.  "Sorry, I'm not going to take hydrocodone.  Is there any other medicine I can take for pain that would still allow me to moderate my own dosage so I can function at least around the house and be a medicine I can take even if I'm throwing up?  The only thing I can think of on my end is fentanyl lollipops; can I get that?"

"I'll talk to the doctor again but fentanyl lollipops are very expensive.  The hydrocodone should work just as well."

Frustration!  With God's help, I'm able to achieve a very carefully balanced lifestyle of eating, getting burped by Noel, exercise, toilet, sleep, and repeat.  Anything that throws this body off-balance is likely to cause excruciating pain.  Not happening!  This is why I don't take even Tylenol in the first place.  Any dependence on pain medications will cause constipation, then bowel obstruction, nausea, more pain requiring more meds... and the horrible cycle will not end in me being functional.  In fact, I can just imagine myself lying in bed so drugged up that my body becomes a living doll until my last breath.  How will I honor God and show trust in him in that state?  

Lord, this hospice care doesn't appear in line with my personality nor the path you've called me to walk.  Father, as I writhe in pain, even now, this hospice company's offer of unlimited pain medication until I fade away sounds so appealing.  But Lord God, I want to honor you with every moment that I still breathe.  I want this life, not to fade easily away, but I want to care for this body to the best of my ability so that I can continue to walk with you while on this earth.  Lord, I trust you to manage my pain.  I trust that if this body hurts more than I can handle, you will either provide the right treatment, medicine, or by your power step in so I can experience relief.  

Father God, my goal is not my own comfort, nor is my goal to serve my own pleasures; instead, Father, I want to show the world that walking with you is so amazingly wonderful that it is worth the pain to stay alert just to gain a glimpse of you.  I don't want to just fade away and give up.  You've only given me this one life on this earth, in this body.  Until my very last breath, and even after that... Father, I believe you have the power to do exactly what you want in me and in this body.  I am satisfied dwelling in your presence.  You may choose to heal me or you may not, but this journey I walk with you is precious beyond compare. 

Lord, thank you for always being there.  Thank you for this time Noel can take off work to take care of me day and night.  Thank you for beloved family and friends who help cook, clean, and distract me with stories.  Thank you for providing financially as so many people have opened up their wallets to help us out.  Father, when you provide, nothing stops your generosity and your crazy abundance.  Lord, in your presence, I lack nothing.  My spirit is overflowing with joy as I see you every single day step in to care for me.  Father, into your hands I continue to entrust my fate, my life, my spirit.  Do not let me break.  Give me strength to face hardships and pain.  Give me peace and joy as I dwell in your presence.  Give me your full attention as I walk with you.  Carry me when I can't move myself.

In Jesus' name I pray, amen. 

"Sorry, I don't believe hospice is appropriate for me at this point in time. I would like to cancel your services.  I do not feel God calling me to load up on pain medications just so I can be physically comfortable.  Thank you for your time."

Click.  No more hospice.  There's still so much to do.  I still plan to get stronger and return to work.  I plan to complete my backyard project with my neighborhood friends.  I plan to modify more recipes and eat healthy.  I plan to get back on my feet to play paintball besides and against my husband.  This cancer may or may not be the end to my life.  I trust God to help me live to my fullest potential.  I plan to live until the day I die.  

My cat, Mika, is heavy!!!