Coping with Terminal Illness in the Family

The diagnosis of a terminal illness will be accompanied by a time of emotional distress. I recently learned this first-hand when my grandmother was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer.

She has COPD, so the shortness of breath and coughing up of phlegm was regarded, by a small town doctor, as symptoms of that condition. I suppose any other doctor would have thought the same. No one had any idea of the real battle my "Nanny" was facing was cancer, not until a fall sent her to the hospital where she was diagnosed with pneumonia. An X-ray of her lungs to check the condition of the pneumonia revealed the expected pneumonia in one lung and a big surprise in the other.

Nanny has a tumor the size of a small apple in her lung, and it has already spread to her liver. Now what?

Her health was already poor, but this diagnoses has decidedly taken the wind out of her sails. The times of emotional distress are here, although, mercifully, her own physical distress has abated for a time.

We are conscious of a change in her manner and mien. She is also aware of the change. The question before us is how to navigate her remaining days without forcing her to try and cheer the living. I really hate it when the person who is facing the most difficulties is put in the position of having to cheer everyone else on. It doesn't seem right to me. We are working to make sure that Nanny doesn't feel the responsibility of comforting the family, but it is hard. She is the matriarch and care-giver of the family. By necessity her role must change, as must everyone's.

It is my understanding that it is best for us to accept changes in her attitudes and behaviors, for better or worse, without taking those changes personally. She is dealing with a terminal diagnoses that is advanced. The best that we can do is deal with her with compassion and understanding, without hovering over her with the same old expectations we have always had of Nanny.

She is not jealous of our health and well-being. She is 86, has lived a good, long and healthy life, and accepts, or seems to, the hand life has dealt her. I should mention here that because of her age and other health problems she is refusing all treatment. I understand her decision. I can't say that it isn't hard. I should be cold-hearted if I thought it easy to prepare to give up my grandmother, but it is her decision and I respect that.

She is tired and I have an inkling that she sometimes grows weary of the hub-bub we, as the family and friends, create around her. I know she is torn. She wants peace. She wants to sleep and rest, but because of her great love for her family she pushes herself beyond fatigue. She values all the time that she has left and wants to spend it in the fellowship of those she loves. We are also torn. Should we let her rest or spend time with her like she requests?

We search for balance.

The best that we can do is be there for her when she feels up to having company and sit quietly when she sleeps. There should be no complaining. What have we to complain of when she is facing illness and death?

Nanny says she is not afraid to die, and I believe her. She is a woman of great faith. I respect that and, thankfully, share her faith. It makes it easier to deal with the ultimate end to her story, whenever that may come. The end of her life on this earth is not really an ending, but a beginning. She has been living an eternal life because of her faith in Christ for a long time. When the time comes, she will simply shuffle off this shell and "cross over Jordan" to a better place, heaven. That knowledge makes the whole ordeal easier for her and for us.

Still, she is sick and there remains the method and means by which to make it day-to-day. There will be physical hurdles, but the greatest today are the emotional hurdles. I think it is important to hear and understand Nanny's feelings. It is also important to share our own feelings with each other and, when appropriate, with her. Above all, we must not burden her down further because she will want to worry about us instead of taking care of herself.

It isn't appropriate to talk about death all the time. I won't do that, but I have told her how I feel about her and how much she means to me. I don't care to stand at a funeral and eulogize to friends and family. I care that she knows how much I love and respect her, how much she has taught me, what a steadfast influence and guide she has been in my life. I have told her. I will tell her again. Then, when she wants to, we will turn the conversation to the Atlanta Brave's. That's her team.

I know a little bit about psychology and human nature, but I am not equipped to deal with my grandmother's fatal diagnosis - imminent fatal diagnosis.

I will be there for her, as will the rest of the family. I will pray, and I will endeavor to put myself and my needs aside in deference to her own. I think she will be honest with us all, and what more can we do than deal with her in honesty and love?