A light even in the darkness of death

Unfortunately, death is an inevitable sad reality of life we must all face at one point. Today, my facebook status should read feeling sad; although it’s a plethora of emotions really. Dang it facebook, why won’t you allow me more than one emotion at a time? Alas social media can never capture the complexity of human beings. I’ll just write a blog post and feel how I want.hehe. I’ve had the privilege of working at a pediatric cancer center for 4 years, and grown immensely working with an awesome team of professionals. Being on the administrative end of things, I don’t get to see or fully experience the loss and triumph that our medical professionals undergo each day. Many are the off treatment parties we host monthly for our patients and families that have completed their treatment and have overcome cancer. Luckily, this is usually the rule, not the exception. Instances like today however, are reminders that unfortunately, not everyone makes it. Some patients struggle and fight for years, go into remission, and then they relapse. We see kids from infants all the way up to 21. I see people visually every day ,but I don’t have the direct involvement with families and patients that our providers, social work , and child life staff have. Honestly, I prefer it that way. It’s an emotionally taxing career to be a medical professional in the oncology world; Even more so with patients that are children imo. Their lives are barely beginning. My heart goes out to our team every time I hear of a death; how can you not grow attached to people you’ve been caring for months or years sometimes? Today, for the 1^st time in four years I felt a bit of that heart break that our team deals with so often.

Over the course of the last few years, I’ve had the opportunity to volunteer at monthly, fun social events that we have for our teenage patients; whether it be going to watch a game of hockey or a movie, Six Flags, indoor skydiving, laser tag, etc. It gives them an opportunity to interact with peers that are also going through a similar struggle with cancer. (We also treat children with blood disorders). So I volunteer once in a while and I’ve gotten to know some of the patients that have been with our clinic for a while. Even kids that are off treatment already are allowed to come join the fun hangouts. It’s amazing to see that a lot of our volunteers for these events, specially at the big camps, are cancer survivors who are grown up and come back to inspire and serve younger generations. It’s fun seeing patients be normal teenagers when they’re hanging with other patients in regular clothes and not hooked up to IV poles and not worrying about being judged about their appearance.

One of the kids I’ve gotten to somewhat know is named J (for HIPAA purposes I won’t state real name) Few things I knew about him, he had a funny outgoing personality, played guitar, and loved to skateboard any chance he had. I went on a hunting trip for patients for the first time last October, and I was his chaperone. A foundation sponsored a father/son weekend for some of our teen boys and I accompanied him since his dad couldn’t attend. Let’s just say he was a bit more enthusiastic about the experience than I was. It was not his first time hunting. I enjoy shooting at targets, live things, not so much.

I’m against hunting for sport, but now I better understand that there’s sometimes the need for population control of species or the need to eradicate invasive species that affect crops (such as wild hogs). Apparently there are lots of them in Texas. However, a couple of the hunter guides on that trip had been doing that their whole life and you can tell they were trigger happy and just were hooked on the adrenaline rush they get from shooting something. Although my guide respected the fact that they were killing a creation of nature and that it was a valuable food resource which would later be cut up and consumed. (This trip was specifically to hunt deer and hogs). Although baiting animals with food and sitting in a deer blind for hours and shooting them when they show up isn’t exactly fair or hunting imo. But I won’t wander too far off topic..I can open another whole blog to write about my opinions on hunting. I eat meat sometimes though, so I can’t be a hypocrite. After this trip, I just know that my place in society is not being the guy who’s gonna be pulling the trigger. Maybe a wooden target shaped like a deer? Sure, any day.

(see, this I can do)

Hey, don’t laugh, I grew up with Bambi. Those thoughts come to my head when I’m sitting in a deer blind. Lol. Anyhow, so I accompanied J and our guide to our multiple stints at the deer blind in this vast many-acred property in the Texas hill country. Unfortunately for me, J was a really good shot. He missed a buck the first time so I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. A couple of hours later the next fellow to stroll into the feeder area wasn’t as lucky. Apparently telepathy doesn’t work with deer. At least not with my brain “fly, you fool, fly!” did not get to him. J and our guide, I’ll call him Bob (I really forgot his name although Jay and Silent Bob seems appropriate) where quite overjoyed when J shot him straight in the neck. (Man, those deer rifles are loud, especially when you’re right next to one. Even with plugs #dangit#hedidntmiss) I feigned enthusiasm and a smile for the kid’s sake, but it was hard to watch. I was really was happy he was happy; sad for the young buck.

Other than the actual shootings, I enjoyed the conversations I had with him. He was definitely a much older and mature soul for his few years on earth. He had a rough upbringing as well. At the time he was in remission, but he understood that his time on Earth was unknown and that he had to live each day to the fullest. He understood that a higher power had a purpose for him that was much vaster than he could imagine and that his time here on Earth was only a small part of his journey. Something about his spirit just transmitted a peace about him, knowing that whatever happened to him he would be ok. He sought to inspire other people his age to not take life for granted and not fret about the small things. Little did he know he also inspired an adult, me.

So, I only saw him a handful of times at the clinic shortly thereafter not giving it much thought really, thinking he was there for a checkup. I briefly exchanged salutations each time since I was busy running around. Life does that to us, we get “busy’ and we miss out on important moments. Flash forward 6 months later and I find out that he had actually relapsed a while back. The only reason I found out is because I ran into him and his family unexpectedly in the clinic. He was a distance away, sitting in a wheel chair, looking somewhat out of it. He didn’t see me, at least I don’t think so; I slipped away and turned the opposite direction. I was shocked at his appearance, he was completely emaciated. A stark comparison to the healthy-looking vibrant soul I was hanging with only last year. I couldn’t bring himself to go say hi. Perhaps it wasn’t my place in that moment either, I’ll never know. Thoughts that raced through my head where “ I don’t know what to say, I really don’t know the family, what if I get emotional in front of him and make him feel bad, I should just stay out of their way, etc, etc.” I found out through the medical team that he was in hospice care and had been brought to the clinic just for a blood transfusion just because he was so low on platelets. The transfusion would help him feel somewhat better. He was so thin that it hurt his collar bone just to sit on our patient room bed. I had him and his family in my prayers from that moment on hoping for a miracle but knew I probably wouldn’t see him again. A wise co-worker told me always tell someone what you feel about them when you get a chance, you never know what difference it will make. When it comes to someone facing death, I still have a lot of fear to overcome, even though I’m no stranger to death either.

Today was a tough day for our entire staff. He was actually brought in for another transfusion but he didn’t make it alive. He passed on his way to our clinic. The family didn’t realize it until one of our doctors pronounced him dead. This blog post is a small tribute to a young soul who inspired me and I’m sure many others in his walk of life. It’s hard for those that remain every time a loved one passes, but there is a inner peace knowing that he is no longer suffering and is in a better place. Many are the stories I’ve heard in my lifetime of young and old  people at the opposite ends of the life spectrum seeing angels or loved ones coming by and visiting them shortly before they depart. I have a feeling he knew he was going to heaven. R.I.P. “J”