Last December, Susan and Diana and I took an overnight trip to Calistoga. I imagined we could hole up in a family suite at the Calistoga Spa Inn and drink a little wine, munch on small tasty olives and cheeses, have some girl time and - mostly - soak in the hot water and let our aches and cares vanish into the mists of steam.
Sooz and I had done a week together at the Russian River three months earlier. That was before her latest round of chemo and before she had the feeding tube. She'd had trouble swallowing and wasn't eating a lot, but she was sampling lots of soft, easy to swallow, easy to digest comestibles. That was also before we learned that the hard lump in her chest was a fast-growing cancer of the esophagus, slowly and steadily swelling to block both breathing and eating, rather than scar tissue from the previous radiation burns. Sooz brought a project to the river: a small quilt she wanted to put together for her soon-to-be-born grandchild. It was a complicated pattern, moving from light orange to dark amber, in various length strips. Getting the quilt pieced right absorbed most of our waking hours. It was too cold to lie on the beach or swim, but the house was cozy and we both brought books to read. We shared driving on the way home.
After that, her health went pretty much straight down hill. The feeding tube went in because she was so undernourished and dehydrated. She hated the feeding tube. She hated the feeling of the liquid food, often stopping the flow well before the amount in the feeding bag had been exhausted and refusing to continue. She fought and fought to stay in the present, to participate with her treatment, always thinking that whatever next procedure would somehow be restorative and she would then be strong enough for another round of chemo, which would beat back the cancer and banish all the damage, including wrinkles and greying hair.
She was in and out of emergency, in and out of the hospital. I saw her every ten days or so, in between doctor's appointments or minor operations. The day of our Calistoga excursion, I hadn't seen her for a couple weeks.
Diana was staying with Sooz at the house, by then, to help with all the infinite small set-ups for infusion of liquid food, the endless trips to nowhere but doctors. It had become harder and harder for Sooz to make herself heard, so Diana was our connection. Diana was being nudged into the role of food cop and she didn't care for it.
The day of the trip, I met them at the Alta Bates labs facility. Susan had required hydration, as she did several times a week. She emerged from the hour-long process in a wheelchair, looking skeletal and cross. She had brought a suitcase but had forgotten some of her meds and equipment, which meant a long swing off the freeway to retrieve the necessaries. Was Susan sure she wanted to go on this trip? Yes, she insisted. We made the swing west off the freeway and parked in the weeds near her back door. Walking from the car to the house exhausted her but, yes, she still wanted to go. She slept for the entirety of the two hour trip.
She had to rest awhile, halfway from the car to our motel room. The afternoon wind had kicked up and the courtyard patio was partially shadowed, so late in the year. Sooz was shivering under layers of sweatshirts and scarves. Even though she had a waterproof device to hold her colostomy bag and a bathing suit cut to accommodate it, she was too cold and too tired to strip, put on the suit and walk the twenty or so steps to the hot pool.
She tried a taste of guacamole, a drop or two of wine, a crumb of cheese. She balked at having her liquid meal by tube. We watched a Law and Order rerun and then we all went to bed and lay awake all night, while Susan struggled for breath. Diana and I managed a quick dip in the pool the following morning and then we headed home, with a sense of urgency. The next week, Susan had a tracheotomy, which left her unable to talk and breathing with the help of a machine.
She lasted long enough to hold her brand new grandson but not long enough to get her affairs in good order. She had hoped to be able to die by a body of water, alone and peaceful.Things don't seem to work out like we plan.
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