My mother and father passed away in 2008. They had Alzheimer’s and they died 36 days apart of each other. At the time of their diagnosis, their neurologist told me that my father had years left in his life and that my mother would only make it another year and a half. My father died first. My father was at Stage 4 of the disease. He had moderate cognitive decline. When he died, a piece of my heart and my soul died with him. Several months prior to my father’s passing, my mother reached Stage 7 of the disease – very severe cognitive decline. This is the final stage of the disease when individuals lose the ability to respond to their environment, the ability to speak and, ultimately, the ability to control movement. My mother lost her capacity for recognizable speech, although she uttered words and phrases. She needed help with eating and toileting and had incontinence of urine. She could not walk, and sat in a wheel chair. Every so often she still would smile. This brought so much joy to my heart. When my mother passed she too took a piece of my heart and my soul with her.

A year after my parent’s deaths, my husband was diagnosed with Adenoid Cystic Carcinoma. This is a very rare form of cancer that does not respond to radiation therapy or chemotherapy. Adenoid cystic carcinoma is a rare cancer, typically originating in the head and neck region. This malignancy has a slow – and sometimes relentless – progression with a tendency to grow along nerves. Particularly high rates of recurrence and metastasis to the lungs lead to a poor prognosis beyond ten years.

Today, I realized something within myself. I realized today that handling a new crisis in my life has become extremely difficult for me. In my past I was able to stay calm, and keep focused on the crisis at hand. Today, my Chihuahua, Holly had an episode of congestive heart failure. She was diagnosed about three weeks ago with a Grade 4 heart murmur and a torn mitral valve and was started on medications to stabilize her heart. Three weeks have gone by and we’re still trying to stabilize her heart with a cocktail of medications. Unfortunately, it is a catch-22, because, one particular medication that she is taking is very toxic and can cause kidney failure. I broke down today when she was struggling for breath. I literally broke down. Every vision of my mother and father in the final hours of their life came rushing back into my mind. I simply, could not stay calm in a crisis with my pet.

Not only did the “visions return” – the “what if” questions returned, as well. I had to make some very difficult life and death decisions concerning my parents. I’m now being faced with these decisions for my pet. I’m so afraid that someday I will have to make those same decisions with my husband. When will the “normal” come back in my life? Have I failed at being a caregiver, because I can no longer handle a crisis? All I can do is pray to my Lord to give me the strength and courage that I know someday I’ll need.

Deborah Tornillo
Author, 36 Days Apart
http://www.deborahtornillo.com

Tags: grief, hope