Recent events have culminated in one of those moments that you get in your life that will forever mark the end of something, and the beginning of something else. These moments aren't always obvious, but sometimes they are. I could tell this experience was one that would change me, and that I'll still remember it vividly a decade from now. I'm writing this to share that experience with those close to me, and with those that I have to thank for the experience - the Anabo family.
Four weeks ago I began spending some time with a family whose daughter was stricken like Paige -- with an aggressive cancer while young. Elizabeth Anabo was 34 when first diagnosed, Paige was 29. The idea that we meet was at the suggestion of Kim Frost, a nurse that cared for both Paige & Elizabeth. She thought that perhaps I might have experiences to share that may be of benefit to them. She acted as liaison and set up the initial meeting. I agreed, albeit reluctantly. I have to admit that this whole thing almost didn't happen. As I was contemplating the initial visit with them I was wrought with self-doubt. "I'm just a regular guy, who am I to walk into a situation where others face the hardest moments of their lives and be helpful?" I felt presumptuous, and was worried they'd be thinking "What does he think he's doing?" However I was 'nudged' along by a not-so-subtle hand and found myself in the truck heading to LGCH (Los Gatos Community Hospital). I'd feel those nudges again throughout this short ordeal.
I also figured that I might stand to gain something from it, just by the act of talking with others who understand that kind of pain. I had no idea the magnitude of what was really to come.
30 Sep 00 - The first Saturday I was to meet them at 10 am in the lobby. I entered and it was empty. I sheepishly went down the halls to the room where I knew Liz was staying (Kim told me the room number the day before) but it was closed. I didn't really want to encounter Liz first, since I had no common experiences to share with her. I was a loved one and a "caregiver" in my experiences with Paige, and it was with her family that I felt I might have something to offer.
The minutes passed and 10:00 became 10:15, then 10:30. I alternated between pacing the lobby and checking if room 111 was open yet. I heard voices in the room and it sounded as if a heavy conversation was afoot. I nearly left about 5 times since I figured they must have changed their minds about meeting with me. Each time I got close to leaving I got 'nudged' to stay . I'm really glad I stayed.
Soon I decided to loiter outside the room -- with a magazine to read so I looked like I knew where I was supposed to be. Eventually the door opened and out came a gal I did not recognize. It turned out to be Catherine, the youngest sister. She gave me a brief look and began discussing something with a nurse who had just appeared. Once done she asked "Are you Rob?" and mentioned they had to stay in the conversation in the room a little longer. The conversation wrapped up around 11:00 just as some of Liz's friends showed up, providing a good opportunity for a break.
So I finally got to meet the gang -- or at least meet them a little better than I did the week before at the "Walk for the Whisper" event. Mom, sisters Catherine & Stephanie were there, as well as cousin Dawn, also a nurse. We spoke for hours and I ended up staying until like 3 or 4 pm. (Allegations that the Krispy Kreme doughnuts that showed up around 2 pm were the cause of my long stay will be categorically denied :-).
I had no idea that I could really be helpful like that to others. It was nice to see that my hard-won experience could help someone else. They were all so receptive and welcoming that the transition from stranger to new friend was easy. I spoke at length about how we pulled together for Paige the same way they did for Liz, how we never let her have a night alone in the hospital, what we did in terms of preparing TPN, administering shots, accessing mediports, etc. I also got to share stories about Paige and show our wedding pictures. That was fun. The stories about the mechanics of home care proved valuable in building their confidence that they could handle whatever was dealt them. Liz was in the same unenviable position as Paige in that she was no longer sick enough for 'acute care', but not really healthy enough for 'home care'. A 'secondary care' facility was proposed (aka Nursing home) which was rejected by Liz just as fast as it was by Paige. When in this position we went from unprepared folks to skilled home nursing caregivers in the span of 1 week. Apparently nobody told the Anabos they had such an option available.
Incidentally, this was my first visit back to the hospital since Paige passed away. The whole place was still so familiar. Seeing everything with such intense familiarity had a visceral impact, right down to the sight of the coffee machine in the cafeteria. The effects of this would not really set in for another week.
I got to meet Liz briefly in the hallway as she made rounds with IV pole in hand. I knew that drill very well. She seemed more like someone on the road to recovery than on the decline. She was very alert, lucid & engaging. However, the interaction was quite brief, which is understandable. Liz wanted to spend time with her family and friends most. And it's not like I could really say anything meaningful to her anyway. Nobody from the outside can truly empathize with Liz except another cancer survivor/sufferer. My link was with her family. All that I really know about Liz I learned from what others said about her. And most of what I heard reminded me of Paige.
I was continually blown away by the stunning similarities in character that everyone shared. They way they all talked about her was just like the way we carried on about Paige. They even said "She's holding court" when addressing people in her room. I often said that about Paige. She always let you know where things stood and what needed to happen.
During all this it was impossible for me to separate my grieving for Paige from the emotions generated by seeing the Anabos. As a result, both seemed amplified. All this was made real by an afternoon spent with a tight family, and a 30 second introduction to a gal I never really got to know.
