By Lois A. Troutman
The title of this article exemplifies a motto I adopted early on in my
life as a caregiver. Caregiver is a word that I never expected would
be in my job description when I got married to Kenneth E. Troutman on
March 22, 1975. But, years later it became an all-consuming part of my
life.
On December 27, 1990, we discovered that my husband
had developed prostate cancer. Cancer is a word that can send
shock-waves through one’s very being. It can be a stunning diagnosis
and one that takes a lot of time to get used to hearing. It’s even
difficult saying the word. I know it hit me with the force of a tornado
and so many questions began to circulate through my mind. Those
questions had no answers in the beginning. Actually, as time wore on
there were only more questions with very few answers.
I immediately knew that I had to adopt an attitude
adjustment and vowed to do everything humanly possible to help my
husband through this ordeal. My feeling was that I had to assume
responsibility and somehow get through whatever came our way in order to
be able to best take care of Ken.
The early years actually went very smoothly and our
lives were not disrupted very much at all. But, cancer is like a
family member who comes to visit and becomes a permanent guest, a very
unwelcome guest at that.
I actually felt like I was going into this great
abyss where there was so much uncertainty and fear. Yes, the kind of
fear that just rocks one to the core. But, at the same time I was
determined to just do it and get through it.
My journey began with a visit with Ken to his
oncologist on January 7, 1991. My emotions were “all over the place”.
It turned out Ken’s cancer had already spread to the bone, so surgery
would have been a moot point. He started out with a monthly hormone
shot and regular examinations, so it seemed like we were off the hook at
this point, but that was not a harbinger of things to come down the road
of our journey.
In September of 1997, I believe we began the start
of the end. Ken became ill with what we thought was a case of the flu,
but that certainly was not what it turned out to be. Finally, on
October 21 we sought medical intervention at the hospital. He was
hospitalized for eight days fighting for his life from uremic
poisoning. He did eventually rally from this, but this was only the
beginning of more setbacks to follow.
The hospital at this point became a second home for
us. There were more hospital stays, more medications, more tests. The
day that I feared the worst came and that was to enter the infusion room
to begin protocols such as chemotherapy that were supposed to help Ken.
It turns out that when one became ineffective, another type was
implemented. It was, also very apparent to me that all of these
treatments were meant to extend Ken’s life, not necessarily to make the
quality of his life better because it certainly did not.
Other setbacks included blood clots in his legs,
long use of Prednisone eventually made his legs useless and he
eventually had to use a walker. In time, he lost the use of his legs.
His blood counts often were too low to endure the treatments. He,
also, had to have blood transfusions to boost his immune system. His
blood P-time constantly had to be checked for the clotting factor.
It became necessary to have a medi-port implanted
into his chest so it would be easier for the nurses to take his blood
for testing and to infuse the intravenous therapies.
Caring for him became a full-time job for me and I
put my life on hold to do it. Yes, the word “caregiver” had now entered
my job description. There were days I struggled just to hold on to my
own sanity, let alone trying to be the anchor for Ken that I needed to
be. I kept reminding myself of my motto, though, and kept running the
race. My faith in God certainly helped me to go through all of the
rough times that I had to face. I acquired strength through the
prayers of others, and support of family and friends helped
tremendously, too.
Try as I might, I sunk into another period of
depression after I had a hysterectomy in January of 2000. I battled
back from that with sheer will and determination. I knew Ken was
depending on me for the care that he needed and I still managed to do it
even though this was a very difficult time for him and for me.
As the year 2001 began, Ken was having much more
pain than usual and he had bladder surgery. Through the surgery it was
determined that the cancer had spread to the bladder. This surgery did
not go well and many complications ensued, including the need to have
nephrostomy tubes put into his back for the purpose of voiding his
urine. He eventually, also had to be catheterized.
Some physical therapy to strengthen his legs was
attempted, but that proved futile. Ken spent the better part of two
months in the hospital and on May 8, 2001, we brought him home with
hospicee care for what would be the last two weeks of his life. This
period of time was so difficult, but I had been witnessing a slow death
over a period of about three years, and seeing what I had to see and
participate in as far as his care was concerned was almost more than I
could bear. But, again I remembered my motto and continued the race.
The hospicee team assigned to us for those two weeks
was like a team of angels sent by God to me. Their help proved to be
invaluable and I could not have coped without them. My resolve at this
time started to weaken and I had to give up and put all of this in God’s
hands and accept the help that I needed because we now had to allow Ken
to give his life over to God.
On May 22, 2001, the hospicee nurse had instructed
me to give him a “morphine cocktail” every hour that day. I had to give
it with an eye-dropper because he had lost his ability to swallow and to
take pills. All during this day his bodily functions were ceasing and
the “death rattle” had begun. The time of his death was now imminent.
Family and friends kept a vigil at his bedside.
On May 23, 2001, at 4:15 am, my husband lost his
valiant struggle from this most devastating illness. I actually got
down by my bed and thanked God for ending his suffering. Yes, the
ordeal that left me physically and emotionally drained was now over.
I think the thing that I was most proud of
was that I saw Ken through this illness from beginning to end and did it
to the very best of my ability. I actually learned a new skill and that
was coping with all that needed to be done, with taking charge of his
care, learning to take care of things at home that Ken always took care
of, and developed the will to do it.
My advice to others would be to stick by your loved
one, no matter how hard things will get, because dealing with the
illness of cancer can be the hardest thing you will ever face in your
lifetime. This is not an easy process, but in the end you will be a
much better person for it. Ken and I became closer together because of
this, too. We could not be intimate any more, but we found other ways
to stay close. Yes, make ways that you can still enjoy each other, at
least in small ways, and interject a sense of humor into your days
because it is still possible to enjoy laughter with each other. One
thing we did was pass a teddy bear back and forth and hold onto him.
His name was Binky and Binky helped us cope. Just develop ways that
will be suitable for you in your situation.
It is also imperative to accept someone’s help to
sit with your very ill loved one. That is another helpful coping
mechanism that is vital. Yes, I was a caregiver, but if I hadn’t at
least attempted to try to take care of myself, too, this orderly process
that I established would have come crumbling down.
There are no set rules and regulations to deal with
something like this. Sometimes it takes trial and error to find the
combination that will work for you and your spouse and sometimes nothing
works. You just do it and you get through it. Actually, that motto is
what I continue to espouse as I go through life without my husband.
My husband became my hero for the way he fought
this disease with dignity and the will to overcome it. Yes, he lost the
fight, but he left me with a legacy that I try to keep going today
through my own life here on this earth. Now it is very important for me
to tell those people who mean the most to me that I love them every
single day and to help friends whose husbands have recently passed on
from equally devastating illnesses.
In
closing, the strength and wisdom that I acquired through my life as a
caregiver is seeing me through. My race was tough, my battle was
finally over. And, yes, I can say I did it and I got through it. I
hope these words that I have shared will give you comfort, peace, and
strength. Yes, you can do it and get through it, too.
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