Living life...when there's not much left to live

So I debated on whether I was going to share this story with anyone, let alone everyone. But after telling a few people and seeing their reaction, I felt compelled to share this experience.

A few years ago (wow time goes fast!) I started my career in anesthesia. I've said this many times, but there were 2 people that stood out in my mind as going above and beyond to help me and make me more comfortable. One of them, we'll call her Kate for identity sake, took to me right away. She was the first person I ever called outside of work, the first person I introduced my husband to, and one of the only people at work that got me. Our friendship at work grew and it was awesome that she completely understood my sense of humor...the sarcasm...everything. She started calling me "little bitch" because I gave her the nickname "grandma". We even got a few people at work to believe that she was my grandma... she was barely old enough to be my mom.

Fast forward...Kate stopped working at my hospital in the spring of 2012. I was pretty upset since like I had mentioned...she got me. She was also pretty devastated about the situation. I spoke with her a few times and would text pictures of the kids whenever I got the chance. She loved the kids...would always ask about them etc. 

Monday I walked into work---and was immediately dealt with the news that Kate had 7-10 days to live. Shock. Utter shock. How could this be? She was at the Cleveland Clinic...Main Campus...remember this post? Immediately I knew I had to go visit...and a few seconds later the excuses started floating through my head of why I couldn't. My kids are sick. I hate going to main campus....like anxiety panick attack HATE it. I am too busy with work. They said she has 7-10 days this past Saturday...it is now Monday...will she even be alive when I get there? Will she even recognize me? Would it just be a waste of my time? Is she conscious? I'm on call tomorrow....and then its Thursday...how many days is that from Saturday? 1--2--3---4--5....five days...which is not seven...or ten. I have to go...but I can't. 

As if these excuses weren't bad enough....rumors started trickling in. I shouldn't even call them rumors..because in reality...it was just the truth. The cold, hard, raw truth. A few people had gone to see Kate already (apparently she had been in the hospital over a month and no one knew). The scene that they were describing sounded like something out of a horror flick. I know my co-workers were trying to prepare me....but the anxiety continued to soar. 

I see sick people everyday. I'm talking....really sick. People at the lowest points of their life. I take care of them all day long like its my job (..ok so it is my job). It doesn't bother me...as a matter of fact...it empowers me. We fix them...and fix them again...and fix them a third time. We fix so many people who have 1 foot in the grave that I began a whole knew reality of thinking that death doesn't even exist. I was in disbelief when my Dad passed away a few years ago because I truly started believing that people don't die anymore....we just fix them. I can look at people with tubes coming out of every orifice of their body, on feeding tubes, breathing tubes, and medically induced comas. Does not bother me. But its a TOTALLY different story when it's someone you know. And that's where I'm a coward. I would find every excuse on the planet to avoid seeing someone I care about...sick....let alone on their death bed. 

Tuesday rolled around...I had an excuse if I wanted to go that route...I was on call. Sounds good enough right? As the day wore on..my conscience grew stronger. Something inside me kept saying "this is the least you can do for someone who helped you so much" Everything aligned and I ended up getting done with work early...and Travis already had plans to pick up the kids. So off I went....down to hell main campus. My heart was beating through my chest as I drove through the pouring rain. Its funny how weather has a tendency to match moods and feelings. As I started making my way through the 8 billion skyways 

Remember? Oh..apparently its 9 billion...sorry. If you have ever been to the Cleveland Clinic, you know what I'm talking about...but they play this really trippy meditation music. It is NOT relaxing at all....it was actually very eery. The rain was pounding against the windows and I could see all the traffic zooming under me. Everyone was walking at me all dressed in white...and my thoughts were racing about 100 million miles per hour. Heart thumping...thumping...I almost turned around and went home. But I kept walking.

I walked in her room......she looked at me...and I looked at her. The tears immediately began flowing. The first words she said to me were this...." I....knew...you'd come....I knew it." Imagine the relief I felt. Trying to avoid tears myself, I immediately changed subjects to the kids. I showed her some pictures of Carson & Macie and she got a big kick out of that. Mentally she was about 50/50. One minute she made sense...and the next....it was an incoherent story about how the doctors were trying to get her....(but don't worry...she said we would get them first!). Sometimes she would just close her eyes...and deep down...I was terrified she would die while I was there. The scene that everyone had described at work was accurate...I won't go into detail...but I had nightmares that night. They hired a sitter to sit in her room with her since she had tried to pull out her lines before. She seemed very nice, but kept to herself. Sometimes when Kate would start talking silly...she would make a funny face. It made me laugh. Then at 7....it was shift change. I had been there about an hour, and it would have been completely appropriate for me to say goodbye at this point. We had shared a few stories...a few laughs..and she even called me "little bitch" once or twice. But something inside me said no...don't go...not yet.

A new "sitter" came in and took over. I saw them looking at me and giggling while giving report. Finally I said "I know you ladies are talking about me." And they smiled and said "we were just talking about how beautiful you are!" It was a really nice compliment...but I could tell..there was just something different about the new "sitter". She was so bubbly...and full of life. I talked to Kate for a little longer, but as the night continued...she became more confused. I decided it was time to go...but then I stopped and said "Kate...do you want to pray with me?" She immediately began sobbing and shaking her head yes. I grabbed her hand...it was so yellow with jaundice....I just can't even compare it to anything I've seen before. I took a deep breath and started...

"Dear Lord.....I just want to thank you for blessing us with this time. I want to thank you for blessing us with this beautiful friendship. I pray that you bless Kate's body...." and I could just hear Kate weeping. I needed a second to re-compose myself. I paused. I took a deep breath. And another one. And then I felt a hand on my left shoulder. The sitter began praying the most beautiful prayer I've ever heard. She was speaking through me. She was saying everything I wanted to say but didn't have the strength to get out. I wish I could even remember exactly what she said....but I was so moved that I just listened. It was a long prayer....much longer than anything I could have come up with. More meaningful than anything I could have imagined. She prayed for me...and my strength to sit bedside with Kate. I remember that part. She prayed with passion....more passion than I could have mustered up at that point. And when she finished....I said a few more words..and Amen.

The sitter then walked next to Kate's bed and knelt down beside her. The two of us began telling Kate about God. We told her that she's not alone...and that God will NOT give her more than she can handle. The sitter began telling Kate that this is just a test. God is testing us...and we don't know what the outcome will be...but we just have to have faith..."crazy faith" as she called it. I told Kate that it's not too late...it's never too late. Kate was more focused and locked in than she had been all night. She was focusing on every word we spoke. Nodding her head....locking eyes with us. And then she stopped and looked at me and said this
"I never knew....."
"Can I still tease you?"
and my response...was
"of course...and you can still call me little bitch"

The sitter and I began sharing faith stories, and I started telling her about some Bible studies my community group was doing. She immediately began looking up all the verses I was mentioning in her bible and was getting teary eyed with our discussion. She was seeing things in the Bible that she had read time and time again, but had never read. After a little while longer, I decided it was time to go. My phone was about to die...and after all....I was on call.

As I walked through the skyways back to my car (amazed I even found my way back)...I felt total peace. Calm. No heart thumping. Didn't even notice the rain...or the "white people"...or the trippy music. I put one foot in front of the other...knowing with each step...that I just changed my life more than Kate's. What happened in that hospital room was living. And if it was going to be her last day...or mine for that matter...it would have been one of the best.