Phil
When Phil found out his mother had stage four cancer, he put his life on hold.
She had lived all of her life in a suburb of Chicago, while years ago Phil had moved to the west coast for work. The move was a challenge for Phil, an only child, who would be what most considered a momma’s boy. While not pleased about the move, it seemed like his only chance for advancement at his company.
In retrospect, the move turned out to be a mistake for Phil on many levels. His wife was never happy living out west, eventually divorcing Phil for a man she met at a gym, and the chance for the promotion was short-lived as the company decided to eliminate the position Phil was being trained for after he had already moved.
While he still kept in touch with his friends, Phil never fit in on the west coast and couldn’t adjust to the lifestyle, either.
He was a midwestern boy at heart.
He also missed his mother terribly. They would talk on the phone every weekend, and whenever she would bring up something she needed done, whether as simple as a light bulb which needed replacing, or as complicated as when her landscaper didn’t show up to mow the grass, Phil felt it was his fault that his mother was having these troubles. It killed him that he couldn’t be there to help.
Putting his life on hold, though, became Phil’s number one priority knowing that his mother only had about one more year to live following the diagnosis.
It had been nearly a year that Phil had quit his job to move back and live with his mother. While he was thinking about things on this Fat Tuesday morning, he realized that he didn’t miss the job at all. He thought back to how the company screwed him over by making him move out to the west coast for the position they ended up eliminating. He was also happy that he had been frugal enough to save enough money so that quitting work for a few years wasn’t an issue. As his mother had no one around any longer, Phil knew he couldn’t just leave her in the midwest to die on her own.
Through that year Phil had seen his mother’s health get worse and worse. While she started with the standard course of treatment for her cancer, the doctors suggested she try a new treatment that was supposed to give her another six months to a year to live. The side effects, however, were excruciating, and while Phil wanted her to continue, being afraid to lose her, his mother decided she had enough. She felt it was her time, and it wasn’t worth it to live six more months being completely miserable.
They both decided home hospice was how her end would come.
The days blended together, and as things progressed, some days were worse than others, but lately the worse days began outnumbering the better. The hospice nurse had made his weekly visit the day before Fat Tuesday and told Phil that he didn’t think Phil’s mom would be alert more than one more day, and would probably pass away in the next day or two. While mentally Phil had been planning this for the past year, hearing it was like a punch to the gut. The nurse also mentioned that Phil’s mother shouldn’t be left alone these last few days. In her state she might try to walk on her own, or might fall, or even just fall out of her chair.
Phil acknowledged this wouldn’t be a problem, that he didn’t need to go anywhere for at least a week to pick up any food or supplies.