But in the end, she seemed to have come to terms with her death. She did not recover as she thought she would. Her eyes were closed as she let out a soft exhale. She looked more peaceful than she had been in months. I got up and walked over to my sister’s bed. The next thing I remember is a nurse tapping me on the shoulder and whispering, “It’s time.” It seemed like a dream, and likely it was. I remember trying to wake up, but I couldn’t. I was asleep on a cot in her hospital room when I heard commotion in the room. And on the morning she died, something odd occurred. Throughout her illness, Patricia believed that God would heal her. She found God, and in her faith, experienced a comfort she wanted to share with everyone. She lived for her two children and the grandchildren who arrived shortly before she became ill. She taught high school French for a while and decided to leave the profession for a better-paying job at the telephone company. She didn’t want to venture that far away from home. After graduating with a degree in French, she was invited to pursue a master’s in Paris, but she turned it down. She made the dean’s list every semester in college. Shortly before her death, I asked my older sister if she regretted the life choices she had made. They warned that it would be risky, and that the surgical wound might not heal. With her spleen filled with blood - one of the effects of the disease - doctors suggested that she undergo surgery. But even the aroma of it made her nauseous. She used to enjoy the broccoli casserole from Piccadilly cafeteria, and when she asked for some, I rushed out to get it. Food wouldn’t stay down, but she kept trying to eat. She fought with every bit of strength she had - until she couldn't. The idea that she wielded such control got her through the painful days and nights. She thought that she could beat the monstrous illness if she fought hard enough. Still, she believed that she would somehow defy the odds and live past the maximum 10-year survival period of people with her form of cancer. Like Limbaugh, Patricia understood that her illness was considered terminal. Taking that opportunity away seems unfair. Most of us, regardless of our age, feel as though we have much to live for and many more things to do. And to ask for forgiveness for the things you cannot change.īut for most, such news likely would cause overwhelming grief. To say to loved ones words that needed to be said. With such advance notice, there also is a rare opportunity to try to right what you have done wrong. After months of agonizing pain, there is respite in knowing that it will be over soon. For some, I suppose, such a diagnosis could be met with relief. It is difficult to imagine what it must be like to learn that you are dying. But it is my sister’s death in 1995 from myeloid metaplasia, a rare form of bone marrow cancer, that haunts me still. My father died of lung cancer in 2006 at the age of 91. If it isn’t you, it is someone really close to you.” “If it isn’t lung cancer, it’s some kind of cancer. “Many people have experienced this,” he said. He described his life the past eight months as a roller coaster, with lots of ups and downs. “But when you have a terminal disease diagnosis that has a time frame to it, then that puts a different psychological and even physical awareness to it.” “We all know that we're going to die at some point,” he added. “It’s tough to realize that the days where I do not think I’m under a death sentence are over,” the 69-year-old host said. More: In NC, pandemic points to need for cooperation on climate More: Rush Limbaugh says his stage 4 lung cancer has progressed 'in the wrong direction' More: 'Do things that would make them proud:' Bragg paratrooper's family honors his memory at White House Gold Star event I would like to see his condition turn around, but he doesn’t seem to think that it will. In spite of that, I am saddened that his cancer is terminal. I’ve always felt like the right-wing talk radio host’s sole purpose was to further polarize America and push conservatives further away from a middle ground. I have never cared for Limbaugh’s kind of politics. He announced on his radio show Monday that his lung cancer had gotten worse and is “going in the wrong direction.”
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