Holding Her Hand....

Lily was adamant about NOT having her picture taken when she was conscious.  

Well, she has not been conscious for the past several days.  Her cancer has spread from the lungs to her bones.  

Lung cancer is the second most painful cancer to endure, according to the AMA.  And the first?  If you haven't already guessed it, is bone cancer.  And now, she has both.

Lily is bald and she is puffy from the waist up.  It's a buildup of fluids.

She stopped eating and drinking almost a week ago.  Our bodies (when having an internal war, like cancer) shut down the organs but also keeps some fluids in reserve when it knows its' life is at stake.

At least that's what we are being told.  

And if you didn't already know, "Hospice" workers lie to the families of terminal patients.  Just google it: "hospice myth or lies".

I did have a feeling that we were being told exactly what every family wants to hear from a hospice worker.  Call it 25 years of investigating people lying for money, facts of a loss, whatever.  But my occupation has definitely finely tuned my b.s. detector.

And I knew they were b.s.ing me day one.  "Oh yes, they can hear you....Oh they are aware of their surroundings....And please forgive them for any old resentments you may have, tell them how much you love them.  Tell them now".  I first heard that 6 days ago.

It almost sounds like a time share pitch.  I can almost hear them reading from a manual.  A manual for managing "the families" pain.  Not the patients.

So, as I sit here, holding Lily's hand, sobbing, as usual, I'm just in complete disbelief that she and I were having a normal conversation only 10 days ago.  Wow.  A little more than a week.

What a horrible spiral this has been.  The death of my own mother was a 3 on the scale of tragedy.  And Lily's is a 10+.  It is unbearable, at this moment.

I can still clearly see and hear in my mind's eye, her saying "[My name] don't let me die catatonic in some random hospital bed.  Suffering.  Please just pull the plug."

Yet, here we are.  

I don't have the energy complain about it, anymore.

Lily is dying.  Period. And a big part of me, with her.