Personal Narrative: Pancreatic Cancer
One of my greatest fears, even more than the certainty of death, is knowing I'm going to die before I do. This is a fear many people have, but they, like me, push the heart-slowing thought out of their heads.
Almost two years ago, I had to face this thought head-on when my mother's cousin, Frankie, developed Pancreatic cancer. I remember when she called me on the phone to relay the news.
"He's done" was the first thing I said. Pancreatic cancer is the shittiest of the cancers because it's the most fatal. There's always a sliver of hope with other cancers, but not with Pancreatic. There's no possibility of remission. There's no silver lining. At that moment, I knew he was going to die. I finally saw Frankie again last Thanksgiving. He had …show more content…
But all I could think about was death. My aunt Sandy greeted me and my mom when we stepped inside.
"He's upstairs," she told us as she led us toward his room. We found Frankie sitting on the edge of his bed. He shared a bedroom with an older man who was sleeping when we arrived.
He quickly sat up, and gave us tight hugs.
"What's new?" I asked, thinking of an article I read about terminally ill people. The article said it's better to ask what's new instead of how are you feeling, because it's obvious that someone dying of cancer is feeling shitty. But I immediately regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.
He laughed and uttered a "not much" with the same raspy voice I'd always known him to have.
After making small talk, Frankie asked to smoke a cigarette. We all ventured down the stairs, save for Frankie, who had been strapped into the stair-chair apparatus.
Once he met us in the living room area, we ventured to the backyard, with Frankie walking slowly, but steadily, toward the door. As he approached the stairs that led outside, the nurse told my aunt and mother to hold each of his arms for support. He insisted he could walk alone, but his knees buckles as he descended the steps. He fell, knocking his head on the concrete and rolling on to the …show more content…
He shook his head slowly, as if he were trying to solve an advanced-level crossword puzzle.
At that moment, the fear went away and I offered the one thing I knew I would want to hear if I were in his shoes: "There has to be somewhere better than this."
When I said this, he grabbed my hand and gave me a look that seemed to thank me for finding a sliver of hope in a hopeless situation.
We stayed for two more hours. When it was time for us to go, I watched Frankie ride the stair-chair back to his bedroom. I soaked his wave good-bye, his eyes, and his smile into my memory. I knew this would be the last time I saw him.
Frankie passed away on September 24, 2015. And only when my time comes will I know for sure if there really is somewhere better than this. I sure hope so, especially for someone, like Frankie, whose light shined through the darkest hours.
Until then, I'll stay fearful of the unknown. As I learned from Frankie, fearing death doesn't make us weak. It means we're human, and have lived lives so full of love we can't imagine letting
Almost two years ago, I had to face this thought head-on when my mother's cousin, Frankie, developed Pancreatic cancer. I remember when she called me on the phone to relay the news.
"He's done" was the first thing I said. Pancreatic cancer is the shittiest of the cancers because it's the most fatal. There's always a sliver of hope with other cancers, but not with Pancreatic. There's no possibility of remission. There's no silver lining. At that moment, I knew he was going to die. I finally saw Frankie again last Thanksgiving. He had …show more content…
But all I could think about was death. My aunt Sandy greeted me and my mom when we stepped inside.
"He's upstairs," she told us as she led us toward his room. We found Frankie sitting on the edge of his bed. He shared a bedroom with an older man who was sleeping when we arrived.
He quickly sat up, and gave us tight hugs.
"What's new?" I asked, thinking of an article I read about terminally ill people. The article said it's better to ask what's new instead of how are you feeling, because it's obvious that someone dying of cancer is feeling shitty. But I immediately regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.
He laughed and uttered a "not much" with the same raspy voice I'd always known him to have.
After making small talk, Frankie asked to smoke a cigarette. We all ventured down the stairs, save for Frankie, who had been strapped into the stair-chair apparatus.
Once he met us in the living room area, we ventured to the backyard, with Frankie walking slowly, but steadily, toward the door. As he approached the stairs that led outside, the nurse told my aunt and mother to hold each of his arms for support. He insisted he could walk alone, but his knees buckles as he descended the steps. He fell, knocking his head on the concrete and rolling on to the …show more content…
He shook his head slowly, as if he were trying to solve an advanced-level crossword puzzle.
At that moment, the fear went away and I offered the one thing I knew I would want to hear if I were in his shoes: "There has to be somewhere better than this."
When I said this, he grabbed my hand and gave me a look that seemed to thank me for finding a sliver of hope in a hopeless situation.
We stayed for two more hours. When it was time for us to go, I watched Frankie ride the stair-chair back to his bedroom. I soaked his wave good-bye, his eyes, and his smile into my memory. I knew this would be the last time I saw him.
Frankie passed away on September 24, 2015. And only when my time comes will I know for sure if there really is somewhere better than this. I sure hope so, especially for someone, like Frankie, whose light shined through the darkest hours.
Until then, I'll stay fearful of the unknown. As I learned from Frankie, fearing death doesn't make us weak. It means we're human, and have lived lives so full of love we can't imagine letting