My friend who is battling a glioblastoma had his 55th birthday party on Saturday night. There were about 50 friends and family there. It almost was canceled because of his health- but they went ahead anyway. This birthday had a particular significance.
When he was younger, he asked a Ouija board how old he would be when he died. You have to know this guy- he had his entire life planned. He knew he was going to be a cardiologist when he was 10 years old. He was top of his class- married a wonderful woman and have three amazingly talented daughters. Had a very well established practice in Northern Kentucky. Everything was going for him...
Now you would think, the Ouija board thing would be insignificant- but this hung with him for years. I have known him for 16 years- and I never knew about the Ouija board, but he was always looking for "something" wrong with him (like checking for esophageal cancer, or his cholesterol, etc). I just thought he was a hypochondriac- being in the health care field and seeing sick people all the time- I think its kind of understandable. But I guess the Ouija board had always been in the back of his mind, and now with the brain tumor it had taken on special significance.
The Ouija board told him that he would die at 54.
When we got to the party, my wife and I and he hugged for about 2 minutes. Before when we met- We used to shake hands, but since he got sick- we hug and just stay there and hold each other for a few minutes. We chatted for a little bit- he gets stuck on words- looking for them and not finding them. We guessed what he was trying to say, trying to help him complete his thoughts- but in the end we redirect the conversation to other things that aren't so stressful. The party was great, he got a little tired- and went to his "chair" where he spends most of his days and watched what was going on.
As part of the celebration we blew up a Ouija board in symbolism. They tied an M80 to it- and BLAM!!! Not a shred of it was left...It was a collective you to Fate...He made it to 55!
Before I left- I got a little teary eyed. He was still in his chair, small and fraile. His daughters came out and sung to him a beautiful song in Italian. His brother in law, who makes guitars for a living played. They sang "Good night Irene", which you make up verses about people in the crowd on the spot- and everyone sang happy birthday to him and had him blow out his candles. He is truly loved- yet when I talked to his wife on Sunday- he had another seizure that night. She is running off of about 3 hours a night- mostly on nerves.
Still the sight of everyone singing and laughing makes me both happy and sad...Happy to see someone so loved and cherished. Sad to know the pain that he is going through-
Just a little story to make us think about what and most importantly "who" we have in our lives...
That's really sweet, thank you for sharing that. Your story definitely hit a chord with me. When I was in the hospital a few years ago, a friend of mine called me and sang me, "Good Night, Irene" over the phone.
Nice that he was able to have those moments. I'm not sure which is worse; sudden death or long terminal illness. They're pros and cons to both, I guess. The cons win in overwhelming fashion in either case, I guess, though, huh? I'm glad you're able to say goodbye to your friend and to let him know what he means to you. I'm sorry that he's in pain.
Thanks guys. The moment was very special. Almost glowing. It felt like something out of a movie- especially when the girls were sitting on the arm of the chair, singing this song in perfect harmony.
What struck me too was how this "hugging" thing that we do now with him is now becoming more automatic- almost unconscious. Social barriers start to fall away in moments like that.
I've known a couple of people who had a terminal illness and they had a few months to be with family, reminisce and be really frank about things.
What I noticed is, like you said, those around the person will suddenly do things, say things, be more real about stuff than ever before. The person who is ill just wants friends and family.
I found it a double-edged sword when they finally got the pain-relief they needed, but it made them too tired, incoherent, combative, or confused.
You desperately want them out of pain but it's such a bitch that oftentimes the pain meds take them away mentally.
So sorry to hear that.