Good morning and Happy Memorial Day!
Matilda and I are flying home today.
Yesterday we got some hard news. I've mentioned before that Lola, the mother of Matilda's beloved childhood friend Isabella, had been struggling with a brutal Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer diagnosis, which was only discovered after it had spread along her spine. (Isabella is the talented artist I commissioned to paint Matilda's portrait, after her father decided not to pay for her college tuition as he had promised.)
I'd seen Lola periodically when she flew out for treatment and had put her up in the Garden Apartment. Lola was very close with Hannah, one of the women who was in attendance during Jacqueline's hospice.
Anyway, as we were leaving SF, I got a panicked text from Hannah after Lola had a medical crisis after she arrived in SF for her treatment. The cancer had progressed, tumors all through her lungs which were filling with fluid, but Lola was in complete denial about it and telling Isabella (who had traveled with her) that they were going on a European trip in two weeks, or that she'd be released from the hospital over the weekend.
Hannah kept trying to pierce the combination of denial (which Isabella believed) and cognitive decline Lola was experiencing as her oxygen levels crashed.
It was all incredibly stressful for Hannah and I told her I'd present a united front with her on Tuesday after I got back, as it was clear that Lola was not going to be able to leave the hospital at all and was looking at palliative care.
Then Lola died yesterday morning. Isabella is stranded here in SF in a hotel. Lola's three sisters are flying out from the East Coast and will collect Isabella and handle all the details.
Honestly, I'm surprised Lola lasted as long as she did (more than a year after her diagnosis, which I thought was worse than Jacqueline's). But it is a heartbreaking loss and Matilda is feeling so much for Isabella. Hannah has lost another close friend to cancer.
Oh, Hec, that's so heartbreaking. Sending loving vibes to everyone who loved Lola, especially Isabella and the family and friends you've talked about here.
I feel terrible for Isabella, Hannah, and the sisters who likely didn't know how much things had progressed. Denial is tough to cope with for the loved ones. Extra hugs and love to you and Matilda.
This was a challenge with Stephen because he absolutely refused to let anyone, family, doctors, or nurses, suggest that he might be mortal. He would either leave or throw them out. He was adamant that only solutions would be discussed in his presence. He had a handmade sign on his hospital door that said only positive words were allowed in his room. He was in the hospital for 25 weeks on and off over a year and a half. He refused his family's attempts to discuss final wishes or anything like that. At the end, when I had hospice care at home, he insisted on going back to the hospital after they told him they couldn't do CPR. Obviously, he refused a DNR. After he went into a coma, I signed it because it was the right thing to do. I had routinely gone to the records office, picked up his reports, and knew his prognosis.
Early on he had told me that he would rather spend the rest of his life believing he was going to live to a ripe old age after raising children and enjoying grandchildren, and be wrong, than live the rest of his days preparing to die, and be right. It was his choice, and I know it was easier for him.
In more amusing news, my son was up early and at work because he didn't realize it was a holiday, and our doctors would be off. Of course, the doctors and office managers often log in on weekends and holidays, but son actually does get the day off from support. He will of course be twice as busy tomorrow.
I'm so sorry David, glad you and Matilda can be there for her friend.
Laura, I think you made the right decisions!
Random Monday puzzle update: This morning, I celebrated the holiday by doing the entire NYT puzzle without looking up a single thing. In addition to all my little challenges, I'm attempting to do at least one of the full puzzles a week.
Oh, David, my heart goes out to Isabella and Hannah and everyone with Lola
I’m so sorry, David. Love to you and Matilda and all your friends’ loved ones.
In one sense, I envy Lola for being able to hold onto that.(In another, maybe it's not fair to create another hurdle for your daughter, who'll need to be prepared(But, then again, can you, really? Is there anything you could say that would help enough?)
That's just terrible, though, I'm sorry.
Yeah, you can't ever be completely prepared, but being completely unprepared is another level. I hope her loved ones have a sound support system.
