After three doctors gave Tim his diagnosis a couple of days ago, we no longer talked in terms of his recovery. Tumors in both lungs and the esophagus have developed too far to be treated, and he was told he has at most six months to live. Most medics familiar with this type of cancer estimate much less time. A feeding tube was inserted since he can no longer swallow, and we began to mobilize to bring him home to San Carlos.
I visited a local Catholic hospital, said to be one of the best, but soon realized we didn't have the funds to afford it. But we had another option: a vacation home five minutes from my place, where he would be comfortable. I found a private nurse and interviewed a woman who could clean and spend most of the week with him, figuring I could sleep over most nights. I don't have nursing or hospice skills, and I asked myself a number of times how I could get over my queasiness and take on this unfamiliar role, but I was convinced that what I don't know I could learn from the nurse. At least, I thought, he would get the attention he needs for the bedsores and a number of other details we felt were being ignored at the hospital.
I was looking for a hospital bed, an IV stand, foam pad, sources for morphine and oxygen...
But last night Team Tim got together, at least those of the group here in town, and in less than an hour everything changed. A former nurse went into grueling detail about what could be expected in caring for a terminal cancer patient, and a someone else pointed out that the hospital didn't have to discharge him. Then the consensus quickly swung in the direction of leaving him in the hospital. Some said they'd visit him regularly, with one of his friends promising to drive up on Christmas Day and take his laptop and some DVDs.
I had nothing much to say, being overwhelmingly outvoted. I don't have much faith in the overworked, underpaid hospital staff and worry that his bedsores, already very painful, will get much worse if they don't regularly help him shift positions. While everyone on the Team is tentatively volunteering to visit him on a regular basis, I wonder how long before they start forgetting Tim. Out of sight, out of mind.
