Hospice: The Lesson - Chapter 6: Last Days
By Joan Morris
TIMES STAFF WRITER
Published Friday, May 25, 2001, in the Contra Costa Times Newspapers.
Orginal Link Addresses:
http://www.contracostatimes.com/health/hospice/
http://www.contracostatimes.com/health/hospice/stories/daysix_20010525.htm

SFBAPPA.ORG Award of Excellence:
Bob Larson, Contra Costa Newspapers, "The Lesson" - Corresponding Photos.

the lesson

CHAPTER VI: Last Days

End of journey draws nigh

By Joan Morris
TIMES STAFF WRITER

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For weeks, food offered little appeal for Diane Sheffield. But today, in the chill of late winter, she temporarily rediscovers her appetite.

Courtney, the granddaughter Diane calls a "delightful little bean," is perched on Diane's bed, carefully poking strawberries into Diane's mouth. Nearby, Courtney's 6-month-old brother, Ryan, gurgles cheerfully, kicking and swatting as he plays with a rattle.

Throughout Diane's three-year battle with cancer, she has seldom looked ill. She once joked there were two kinds of cancer. One made you thin, the other plumped you up, and wouldn't you know it, she got the kind that made you plump.

"I just don't look cancery," Diane had said.

And it had become a double-edged sword. The appearance of health had allowed Diane to "pass." But when she was so weary she could barely move and the pain had settled deep into her bones, it made her angry when people told her how well she was looking.

But that was before. It is now mid-February, and Diane is at last beginning to look cancery. She has lost weight, and her skin has a waxy cast to it. Her color is ashen with tinges of yellow, and dark smudges hollow her cheeks.

A tumor has begun to grow behind her right eye, causing it to bulge. The light is all but gone from her blue eyes.

If Courtney notices a change, she does not show it. She is simply feeding Nana her strawberries and delighting at the attention she is getting. Courtney often climbs on Diane's bed to sit with her and talk.

One day, in a voice much too wise for someone not quite 3 years old, Courtney had studied Diane, then asked: "Just what is it that you have?"

Diane told her, Nana has cancer. Will you get better, Courtney had asked. No, Diane told her. There is no cure.

As Diane tells the story, her voice fills with pride when she recounts how Robert, Diane's older son and Courtney's daddy, told Courtney that when she grows up, maybe she'll be the one to find a cure.

Diane is impressed with how Robert instinctively responded. It was something Diane might have said to her children. Perhaps some of her teaching skills have rubbed off on Robert, an orthodontist.

It is one of the last conversations Diane has with her little bean. Each day seems to bring another sign that Diane has entered the final stages of her life. In medical parlance, she is actively dying.

The body dies in a predictable manner. The soul does not.

"Today," she said in late January, "I was just so weepy. I wept and weeped and weeped and wept and wept and weeped. I just couldn't stop. I thought it was OK because I believe tears are healing. But I just couldn't stop weeping.

"It's going much slower than I thought it would be. I thought I'd be dead by now."

Although she remains determined to control the course of her death, each day Diane gives in a little to the inevitable.

She is no longer strong enough to go to the bathroom unaided, and she hates waking Bob several times a night. She finally agrees to a catheter, which then necessitates wearing nightgowns.

Her internal thermostat races out of control. At times she feels like she is burning up; at other times, she sinks deep beneath the covers, shivering.

Diane's appearance changes drastically by the day. Her face is swollen, her lovely white hair has lost its sheen, and her wit and exuberance show themselves less and less. She begins to spend most of her time in slumber.

At last, Diane seems to welcome the coming of her death.

"I'm ready," Diane says. "Everything in my life is where I want it to be. Bob's going to be OK. Robert's practice is going well. Daniel seems to have settled down. I'm ready to die. I don't know why I can't."

Sue Stewart, Diane's hospice nurse, keeps a close watch on Diane's condition.

"She's really dying," Sue says. "I think she's really dying."

Saturday, Chapter VII: Journey's end

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