WAITING FOR DEATH

This is a tough blog to write. Reading it may be more than some would like. I get that.

I sit here beside my 62-year old eldest son, David, hoping and praying that each breath may be his last, finally bringing him eternal peace.

It all began about 4 years ago. His dentist suggested doing a biopsy of a nodule in his cheek. It was malignant. A major portion of his lower jaw was removed, followed by hypobaric treatment, radiation and chemotherapy. After that he was well enough to go back to work, to cruise Europe with sister Peggy and to provide a sanctuary in his granny flat for a refugee from Afghanistan.

After months of good and not so good experiences with several medical systems he attempted all options: vegan, non-protein and non-lactose diets, higher, healthier doses of supplements, more radiation more chemo and acupuncture. The final verdict: “There is nothing more medically that can be done.” He and we decided to manage the pain, no more liquids and no more nourishment. Stay at home under hospice care and await death.

So now for some 2 weeks that’s what we do. He is home. His siblings, his friends from here, from Chicago and elsewhere sit with him briefly. We had our family farewell with David himself concluding the session by him saying, “It’s time for us to say The Lord’s Prayer together.”

So I sit by his side. His eyes stare blindly into space. The bandage hides the entire right side of his face which, when I looked at it last, brought back terrible memories of seeing those same features in people whom I saw in Hong Kong dying of leprosy.

As I sit I hum hymns and folk songs. I tell him softly of his youthful escapades with snails, of his wandering the streets of Hong Kong enjoying the wah mueys he bought from street vendors. I recall him at age 12 caring for 3 younger siblings on a transpacific flight while I was attending his mother in a coma up in first class. I recall how his high school friends ridiculed his strict English school politeness – which his teacher admired. I recall for him briefly the challenge of his being a college student body president in the early 70’s.

I come to tears as I recall my initial prejudice and ignorance when he first invited me for a just-the-two-of-us weekend retreat during which he disclosed that he was gay. I remember with gratitude how he bore evangelical witness to the Church, how he repeatedly visited those dying of AIDS for whom he was the only family and friend.

I smile as I recall good family times, especially at Christmas, or at his wonderful vacation home, our trips together or more recently just the two of us sharing a beer at a neighborhood bar. And I remember our shared anger at the prejudice, ignorance, and rejection shown him and gays around the country and world.

Then I force my mind to the father-son bonds which are inseparable. I contemplate all the mysteries of the life to come. And then I stroke his arms once more and whisper loud enough for him to hear in the depths of his soul, “Come sweet sleep. Come sweet peace.”

PERSONAL HEALTHCARE (Part II: The Bad News)

PERSONAL HEALTHCARE

(Part II: The Bad News)

For the last several years my biggest health care connections have related to our eldest son David, who just today went into Hospice Care because of continuing aggressive cancer in his mouth and cheek.

In my previous blog I gratefully acknowledged some excellent care he received. Unfortunately other aspects of his care have been horrendous. 

Scheduling. It has been a nightmare getting appointments. More than once he arrived for his appointment (bringing with him a copy of the email with the details of the appointment) only to be told that he was not on the schedule.

Primary Care. His primary care physician chooses to ignore him, just hoping that the specialist will treat him.

His primary cancer doctor is a great clinician. He really knows the current field and the latest research. However, when we see him we feel that he would be more comfortable if David sent in his cancerous cheek in a plain brown envelope. In fact, in 3 successive visits this doctor choose to not have David remove his bandage and expose the terrible large cancer tumor which had broken through his cheek. In fact, he actually asked David to go home, take an I-phone photo of his tumor and send it to him.

Two weeks ago we were in the Emergency Room three times in 4 days. The reason: each time his bleeding face cancer needed a new bandage. Once we were there because a doctor in radiation had removed the bandage but had explained, “There is no nurse here who can replace a bandage.” So we waited in an emergency room for 4 hours before someone cold put on a new bandage.

We called for Home Care to have them send a wound care specialist. He arrived (3 hours after his appointment) but he brought no bandages, no tape, nothing!

When David was first diagnosed he had good care from Kaiser Permanente. Then he changed jobs and his new company’s insurance did not include Kaiser. So he went with a team associated with another prominent local hospital. That doctor loved cutting. He removed cheek, jaw and gums from ear to chin on the right side of Dave’s face. He then recommended doing the same on the other side of his face. Again we switched providers – to one of the best-known reputable health organizations anywhere. Again, as indicated in my previous blog, Dave got some good care and he continues under this care (although just today he transferred to Hospice Care.) but once again all of our effort at a real team approach has proved frustrating. (And I won’t even mention that the cost of all of the above is in the hundreds of thousands of dollars and involves hours of negotiation with his insurance company.)

But enough of this rambling. We are grateful for the care, expertise and concern of so many. And we want to be advocates for better service, especially also since we know that David’s care by far exceeds that available to millions of others in America.

And we commend ourselves and all who are ill, into the hands of the Great Physician.

PERSONAL HEALTHCARE (Part 1: The Good News)

PERSONAL HEALTHCARE

(Part I: The Good News)

I have been blessed with good health and good health care whenever I needed it. Mother birthed me under the care of Dr. W. C. Wedemeyer, the old-fashioned country doctor of the rural area of Walburg, Texas. He literally came with the traditional black bag. I seldom needed him. Mom knew how to deal with it when I (and my siblings) had measles, mumps, chickenpox, red-eye, infections in bare feet which had stepped on broken glass, sharp nails or really tough-to-get-out cactus needles.

When I was about 7 I had a ruptured appendix with puss all over my intestines. This was before antibiotics had been discovered and I was on the “critical” list. My cousin-by-marriage Dr. Harlan took very good care of me at King’s Daughters Hospital in Temple, Texas and got me out o intensive care and home safely.

When I started teaching in Tracy, California my very seldom if ever seen doctor was Dr. Longley, the well respected father of Louise, one of my fourth grade students.

When we moved to Hong Kong we had Dr. Rankin, an all-around expert who was there as a Southern Baptist Missionary who treated me as a colleague.

When my wife Jane developed an exceedingly difficult to diagnose illness, she was visited by one of china’s very best doctors, the personal physician for Madam Chiang Kai Shek. Without an angiogram or other modern device he diagnosed Jane’s illness as a cerebral aneurism. We flew her (in a coma) to the USA where the attention of Dr. Livesey and excellent care at Baptist Hospital in San Antonio and my Texas family brought her healing.

Now I have the person who must be the best primary care doctor in the world, Dr. Joel Diamant. And I must tell the story of how he happens to be available to me. I needed a new personal physician. I was told by reliable sources that Dr. Diamant was tops. By wonderful coincidence, his wife also an M.D., and I were members of the same church. By further good circumstance Dr. Diamant’s mother-in-law Ruth attended my Bible Class whenever she visited here from her home in Illinois. She was a conservative, very Biblically literate, of strong convictions who monitored my every word. One day after church I said, “Ruth, I want to talk to your daughter.” “Why do you need to talk to Carrie”, she asked. I explained that I wanted her son-in-law to take me on as a patient. “He’ll take you”, she pronounced.

The next day I called Dr. D’s office. I explained my need. “Oh, sir,” his secretary explained, “Dr. Diamant has not taken on a new patient in 3 years as he is now head of the entire hospital’s fellows program”. I explained to her, “His mother-in-law said he would take me.” Twenty-four hours later I became Dr. Diamant’s first new patient in three years.

The list goes on. Dr. Dennis Gile is my caring and competent dentist. Dr. Jan Ryan treated my ears and loss of hearing as she would her own.

All of this brings me to the care our son David who has been diagnosed with terminal neck and cheek cancer. The technology has been wonderful. They got his mask right for his extensive radiation. The hyperbaric treatment was there to increase blood flow. The acupuncturist is helping with his eyes and drug reactions. Dr. Murphy took lots of his expertise and time to diagnose and prescribe – and then to stop radiation when it no longer worked. He was kind, compassionate and professional in giving us the much dreaded advice that there was no further healing help he could offer.

So that is all good and I am grateful - and in my next Blog I’ll talk about “Health Care: Part II. The Bad News”.

Birthday Time

I was born December 10, 1927. So it’s time for my 87^th birthday.

Birthdays are, of course, personal. After all it is my time on this earth that I am observing. But birthdays are also always communal. Without Mom and Dad there would be no “me”. So I want to spend a bit of time this birthday reflecting upon my 87 years of life, both personal and communal.

It has been and continues to be a good life made so by a host of human connections, Divine Guidance and my own response. Here are just a few examples of how this has all transpired.

FAITH. My parents were people of faith. They saw me as a gift from God. They brought me to baptism just days after my birth. They taught me to pray, to trust, to believe in a good and forgiving God. During my years my faith has changed. It has been deepened, been threatened, been modified, exists among doubts, keeps me going, gives me hope for the future.

FAMILY. My family is my greatest earthly gift. My parents sacrificed much for me, sending me off to “study for the ministry” beginning at the age of 13. My two older sisters had to turn down college scholarships (and never went to college) so they could work “outside the home” to help pay for my schooling. My 6 sisters and one living brother continue to care about me and tell me they respect me. (In fact, as I write this, I have paused to answer phone calls from them wishing me “Happy Birthday”.)

I am profoundly blessed through my 5 kids. All are persons with wonderful values, professional success, caring hearts, liberal supporters of good causes and people in need. They have, I think, forgiven me for some of my unwise decisions and actions I may have made as a part of my less than perfect parenting. They know how greatly I love them and how deeply I respect them.

Jane, my wife of 63 years, is my anchor. I do not want to live without her. Someone recently made the slightly enigmatic comment, “You know that the longer the two of you both live, the less time either of you will be living alone.” Celebrating a birthday without Jane is something I don’t want to think about and celebrating with her is a high delight.

FRIENDS AND COLLEAGUES. I have had more than my share of co-workers, people reporting to me, neighbors, bosses, colleagues. Most were wonderful supporters, a few hard to take, a very few impossible. At first it was just Rosa Bush and me in a 2-room school. Then it included hundreds and even thousands who were part of a throng of Lutheran teachers with whom I shared responsibilities. I have been challenged and affirmed, knocked down and pulled up, cursed at and prayed over. In almost every setting we had some great and wonderful birthday parties and cakes, including one massive sheet cake with a beautiful birthday greeting in Chinese characters delivered to Concordia Kowloon, enough for 65 servings! --- My number of close friends is now, regretfully very small. I can probably count them on one hand, but in my mind I can go back to multitudes together in quiet conversations, at conventions, sharing good Scotch and honest talk, great dreaming and exchanging quarters won/lost on the golf course.

EXPERIENCES. I am blown away in gratitude for the incredible set of experiences I have had in my life. I’ve taught in grades 1-8 and in graduate school. I’ve been the CEO of a staff of 2 and over 60, had responsibility for budgets totaling $20,000 and over $26 million. I’ve picked cotton, set bowling pins in a bowling alley, supervised, managed multi-million dollar building projects, peeled potatoes, waited on tables, had meetings in squatter huts, in State Senate chambers and the White House. I have preached, presided at baptisms, weddings, anniversaries, funerals – around the world. I honestly, greatly and humbly can feel that I have made a difference.

I was born in the country, a mile from the town of Walburg, Texas with a population of “44 friendly citizens and 1 old grouch”. In my early years a trip of 60 miles was a major experience. Last week I saw an ad for the10 top cities of the world and the top hotel in each of them. I did not stay in all those top hotels but I certainly visited those top cities. As I looked at the list of cities I reflected upon cities which I have visited, usually as part of a speaking tour or similar. I decided to list some of these cities, not in a spirit of braggadocio, but in the hope that as readers see names of cities they have visited they may stir pleasant memories as it did for me. Take a look: Tokyo, Seoul, Taipei, Hong Kong, Macau, Shanghai, Beijing, Xian, Urumchi, Lhasa, Bangkok, Singapore, Calcutta, New Delhi, Karachi, Islamabad, Jerusalem, Cairo, Beirut, Istanbul, Athens, Rome, Zurich, Vienna, Paris, Prague, Berlin, Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Stockholm, Oslo, London, Edinburgh, Madrid, Barcelona, Bermuda, The Bahamas, Rio de Janero, Cancun, San Juan, Tahiti, Sydney, Auckland … I have been blessed to have been in all 50 states of our country and made some kind of group presentation in all but 5 of them. Blessings upon blessings.

HEALTH is another great gift for which I am thankful. My body still works reasonably well – most days -. I even shot my age again twice this year. But I am getting older, weaker, hear less well, forget much more, tire more quickly, have low sexual impulses, less stamina, think more slowly.

DECISION. I have decided to stop making any more speeches, delivering any more sermons, conducting any workshops, being responsible for any more events. I want to do only one-on-one stuff like visits to the sick or lonely. I want to be available to my wife and family, especially to our eldest son David who has serious cancer. I want to get more involved in the retirement community in which Jane and I live. I want to continue to support organizations making a positive difference in the lives of people. I want to continue my autobiography via this LOG.

So I celebrate my birthday with gratitude and in faith, hope and love.

Reflections Upon a Blessed and Exciting Life – No.15: High School Dorm Life

 As mentioned previously my 4 high school years were at a residential prep school (preparing for ordered ministry in the church). It was small; less than 100, all boys.

The facilities were sparse. I remember especially the long concrete corridor of our second floor dormitory. A favorite midnight prowl was for a student to take a big 16-pound shot put and roll it down the entire length of the corridor. The whole floor reverberated, especially in the bedroom of Dean George Beto who slept in his room one floor behind ours. I recall one night he came up to investigate. Of course, every student was fast asleep. Nevertheless he went to the end room, opened the door and screamed at the two occupants, “Steyer and Krueger, you are both campussed for next weekend.” “Campussed” meant they were not allowed to step their feet off campus.

Another very daring adventure (remember this was way back in 1941) was to sleep on the flat deck serving as the roof over the dining rom. I guess what made this exciting was that it was forbidden – and we had to pick a lock to gain access. But when we lay there on our blankets on a starry Texas night we felt daring – and maybe even romantic.

Naturally, there were no computers or cell phones then. There was one pay phone in the main hall. To make a long distance call home was out of the question, way too expensive. My memory is that I made a total of 2 calls in my 4 years there, both times calling “girls” and asking for a date. Once I succeeded. It provided me with the only real date in those 4 years at Austin Concordia.

I am embarrassed to remember that I never did my own laundry. As was the custom I placed my dirty clothes and bed linens in a cardboard laundry box and mailed it home! My mother washed, ironed and then sent me back my newly laundered clothes.

Only upper classmen were allowed to smoke.  If a freshman or sophomore was ever seen with a cigarette, that cigarette was confiscated along with any others the smoker had unsuccessfully hidden.

Showers were, of course, communal. I recall no doors on the shower stalls. As adolescent boys it was a time for much “comparison”, pride or embarrassment.

There was supervised “study period” every night from 7:00 – 9:00 p.m. I still recall how I shuddered when, one evening, Dean Beto opened the door to my room and bellowed, “Kieschnick, what are you doing?  You’re supposed to be studying!” My memory is that I was writing a message on the penny post card I was mailing to Mother the next day.

I still have some feelings of guilt about an “extra expense” I caused my parents. In my sophomore year I got a new room-mate, Mike, who now lives 5 minutes away from me in Encinitas, California. He wanted to place venetian blinds on our room windows. I agreed and my share of the cost was, I think, $8.00! This was an extravagance my parents paid with great reluctance. (I can assure you the home in which they lived had no fancy window coverings like venetian blinds.)

As I reflect now on those experiences some 70 years ago my memories are warm. I learned to live in community, to budget time and money, to develop my own set of values, to appreciate friendship, to resolve conflicts without resorting to violence and to survive the teen years in an all male environment.