CRY

Bill was recently operated for bladder cancer. His bladder was removed, and he carried a plastic bag to drain his urine. Unfortunately his cancer started to spread in his bone structure, particularly in his right leg.

Bill was in jail for murder. This happened when he was in the company of a call girl in a bar and the girl’s boyfriend or pimp showed up and started to pick a fight with Bill. The man ended up being killed. Bill was a Vietnam veteran. This was an unfortunate decision for someone to pick a fight with Bill who had Vietnam combat experience. Bill lived in a prosperous area in the Detroit suburbs. He had an ex-wife and three beautiful teenaged daughters. They all, including the ex-wife, visited him regularly.

“How are you coping, Bill?” “Oh, I am taking it one day at a time. I would not have minded carrying this bag all my life except that now my cancer has spread to my right leg. Before this, the doctors told me I could live a long life. My wife and three children again visited me. I’m always glad to see them.” At this time Bill proceeded to talk about his children, the two older ones now studying at a university in lower Michigan. And that he was a tool maker before going to prison. “I see in your chart that your religion is Protestant. Do you wish to see a Minister?” “No, I do not need a visit from a Minister, although I pray all the time.” “What do you do when you are in pain?”,I asked. “Cry!”, he replied. And with this response Bill gives me a faint smile. “I would cry too”, I responded.

At this time the nurse came in the room and announced Bill had visitors coming to see him. I told Bill I would see him next week and then left his room. No sooner when I left while in the hallway, the same nurse saw me again and told me Bill’s visitors would not be here until an hour later. And that Bill wanted me to come back to his room. And so this I did.

Next week when I saw Bill I asked, “How did your visit go?” “My wife came to visit me the same day after you left.” At this time Bill showed me cards written with affection from both his ex-wife and his 80 year old father who came to visit him before. Despite serious heart problems his father came all the way from Pennsylvania to visit Bill. “I am OK except for my right leg which sometimes gives me extreme pain. And then I start to cry like a baby.” I replied, “The next time this happens try not to think that you are only your body. If you think you are just your body, this pain will magnify.” “I understand what you are telling me that I am also part spirit. When this happens I pray, My Jesus please help me.” “You are doing as well as can be expected. Using the words you said to me last week, one day at a time.”

The next week I visited Bill, he was having more aggravating medical problems. His chemo treatment was giving him diarrhea; his urine was not collecting properly in his bag, etc. He looked weaker than two weeks ago.

“How is it going, Bill?” “I know I am going to die.” “Are you depressed about it?” “No, I am not. That is the least of my problems. What is it like after dying?” “I don’t know myself. Although I believe you are not going to continue being sick like this. How can you. You will not have a body anymore. Be confident in your faith. Think positive thoughts. You have a family who cares. Even your father who has heart problems visited you.” “Yea! I had visitors who drove all the way from Pennsylvania. But I am worried how my three daughters will do. Right now they are doing well.” “Do you have pictures of them? Why don’t you place them on your table here to remind you of your family.” “I do have pictures of them, but they were left in my cell block. Prison rule is that you cannot bring anything here in the hospital.” (Unless items are approved by prison officials, prisoners cannot have their personal belongings transferred to their hospital rooms.) “Let me check with the Medical Social Worker in the department if there is something we can do about this.” Bill then asked, “Where were you last week? I missed your coming here.” I answered, “There was a prison mobilization (emergency) drill. Unfortunately, all non-employees have to leave the building.”

The next week Bill seemed to have turned for the worse. He was getting weaker, in bed most of the time, and going in and out of hallucinations. He told me of his “vomiting all over” yesterday.

“How are you feeling, Bill?” “Not too good”, and proceeded to describe his pains. At this time Bill gets out of his bed, scrambles to his dresser in pain, and hands me a recent three page letter written by his 15 year old daughter. As I read the three page letter, the daughter wrote full of affection for her father and naturally worried about his sickness. It was a very touching letter. “You look like you need some rest.” It was a strain for Bill to keep a conversation. “I will say a prayer for you and will see you next week.” In parting he used both hands to hold mine and thank me for coming.

The next week Bill was obviously losing his battle against cancer. He was receiving massive doses of chemo resulting in much hair loss. I was informed that among his three daughters and ex-wife, there was always someone visiting him almost daily.

“Bill, this is Tony here.” “Who? Oh yes, yes. Tony it’s good to see you.” Again he greeted me with both hands. “Bill keep up your spirits. I will say a prayer for you.” At this time the MSW came in the room and said to Bill, “Tony cannot stay long. There is a mobilization drill (another one) and he has to leave the building.” The alarm system was still going on in the hallways. “Tony, I will see you next week OK?”, said Bill. “Yes, I intend to visit you.”

The following week, Bill looked like he was in the beginning stages of dying. Bill looked very frail, losing most of his hair, and his memory was starting to fail him. He kept asking me on dates, illness status, and could not even remember my visit last week. “Did you visit me last week? Am I at Foote hospital (city hospital)? I get extreme pains whenever I move around. Do you have any change? I would like a can of soda.” The head nurse informed me she suspects cancer has spread through Bill’s brain.

The last week, I was in Bill’s ward and asked at the Nursing Station how Bill was. The nurse replied, “He died just a few minutes ago. His family is still in the room. They are waiting for the doctor to come and certify his death.” We passed his room but obviously did not want to intrude with the family still there. Finally another nurse who was in the room while Bill was in agony told me, “Bill had a very painful death. Bill was screaming and not conscious of people around him. The wife fainted? And a daughter had to leave the room due to the stress. However, the youngest daughter (the one who wrote that affectionate letter Bill previously showed me) stayed until he died. She put Bill’s hand in her head and stayed there for a while. I saw you passing in the corridor and wished you came in. I spent an hour counseling the family after he died. Tony, you deserted me.” So I replied,” Why didn’t you drag me from the corridor and take me inside the room?”

Bill was a very likable patient. Even the correctional prison guards expressed some sadness knowing how he died.

Reference - How We Die : Reflections on Life's Final Chapter by Sherwin B. Nuland