Regional Hospice and Home Care Volunteer, Debbie Bodie interviews various patients and then writes an article for their website under Hospice Patient Stories. She wrote an article about me this past week and here’s the link to the article on their website: https://regionalhospicect.org/patient-stories/nancy-stevenson/ I’m sharing it to show that even in the middle of the hardest times our lives still have meaning and purpose. There have been many times in the past few months I have prayed God would take me home. I found myself jealous of those that have died quickly. A friend, who’s brother died after a very long tortuous battle with cancer, said to me “Everyone wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to get on the bus.” Especially if the bus is a local that stops at every little local bus stop along the way for years. By God’s grace my focus has evolved here at Regional Hospice to truly taking one day at a time and seeing the value and meaning, and beauty, in each day no matter what my limitations are. I’m no longer praying for the end, now praying for grace for each day.
Terminal cancer takes things away from you year by year, week by week, day by day, and with each loss there is a grieving process, adjustment, acceptance. Yesterday, I took a fall in the bathroom, I passed out and could not get up off the floor. People came to help me and clean me up. It was humiliating and humbling. Now I’m not allowed out of bed without help, in fact if I try to sneak out of bed without buzzing for help a little alarm goes off. I can’t walk well even with the rollator/walker. More loss of physical independence, and dependence on others. But from my bed I can still have interactions with people and life through texting, email, messaging, talking with the many kind volunteers here, staff, and visitors. And hopefully I’ll still be able to do some watercolors on the table arm that swings out over my bed since I can’t easily get to the other table in the room I used to paint from.
In the Hospice Patient Story they show a watercolor of a stuffed white kitten my Mother sent me, she has one too. So I try to paint the item someone sends on a postcard and mail it as a thank you. While I’m painting my mind is clearer, and hopefully it puts a smile on their face when they get it. Below are a few other postcards I’ve painted since being here. When I first got here cut flowers really bothered my breathing but now that seems to have changed. These are painted postcards of flowers people brought when they visited.
Each day is a gift where even in your grief there is purpose and meaning to be found in this life here on this earth, not just in looking towards the next life. One day at a time.
posted 9 Oct 2016: http://hopeandcourage.com