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Blogs by Sue Hess
Dying 8/19/2005 9:12:51 AM
My cousin, the one I write about so much, is dying.
Last year when they told him he had bone cancer, it seemed horrible enough but still not real. Now he has 6 weeks or less to live and it has become too real to bear. He's only 58 years old. I think of him, with that silly D.A. haircut with the floppy curl on his forehead, playing the guitar and singing country songs; fishing off his pontoon boat, making fun of me because I can't catch a fish; even younger, we climbed trees and wandered the woods around their house, going to the creek because it was forbidden, dropping peanuts in Royal Crown sodas and pretending it got us drunk. He was the first one to get a car and we would drive from the Piggly Wiggly parking lot to the State Line drive in and back again, over and over on long summer nights. When we were very young, our mothers lived together because they were both divorced, so we thought we were sister and brother and I don't think I have ever stopped thinking of him as my brother. It couldn't hurt worse to lose a brother. The really horrible part of this is that it could have been prevented or at least postponed. Charles started showing early signs of prostate cancer but wouldn't go to the doctor because he is intensely shy. When they discovered it was cancer, they were able to put the prostate cancer into remission with radiation transplants but by then it had spread into his bones. Even then, he would not go for Chemo treatments, he seemed to be trying to ignore the whole thing. He goes to the doctor through the Veterans hospital in Birmingham and they are not very proactive if you don't seek help yourself, so they just gave him pain medication and let him put off the chemo until it was too late. When he finally realized he should have gone, it was too late, they said it wouldn't help him. Hiding from the truth has never stopped anything from happening. If you have symptoms of anything, you are better off knowing than not. I love my cousin so much but I am so angry that he didn't do something sooner. I understand his feelings, as I said, he is intensely shy but being bed-ridden with a stranger from the hospice taking care of your personal care has to be worse than a yearly prostate exam. My brother says he hates it but has it done anyway. He says the exam is uncomfortable but it is okay unless you notice the doctor has both hands on your shoulders at the time...okay he is kidding but I'm sure it can't be any worse than what women go thru their whole life..we get used to being poked and probed in intimate places early on so it becomes something routine by midlife. Go to the doctor...there is someone who loves you and will die a little bit with you.
