To Be Transformed by the Journey
Article published in Northampton Living
(November 2022)
EXPERT CONTRIBUTOR
ROBERT ZUCKER
Grief Counselor, Consultant and Trainer
Consulting for the Journey
413 695 4572
robzucker@gmail.com
robertzucker.com
To journey and to be transformed by the journey is to be a pilgrim.
- Mark Nepo
It is 9 p.m. when my kids and I join my wife in her hospice room. We've come to tell her that her oncologist at Dana Farber has spoken to the hospice medical director and agrees that her feeding tube is only causing needless pain. That it is time to let her body die. Tough as nails, my wife insists that she speak directly to her oncologist. She wants us to call her immediately.
The last time Andrea saw Dr. Enzinger, she asked her what she hoped for. My wife had been told months earlier at Mass General that chemo was no longer an option. Then came a hospitalization where she learned that her inoperable pancreatic tumor had broken through her stomach wall and she would never eat food again. But Andrea would not give up the fight.
At Dana Farber, Dr. Enzinger was kind, open and honest. She examined Andrea's chemo and radiation reports, the scans that revealed the cancer had metastasized to her liver, and the most recent notes from her hospitalization. Then, after examining Andrea, she asked her what she hoped for. Andrea said she hoped to get back on chemo and attempt again to shrink the tumor. Then she asked the doctor, “Am I strong enough?”
The good doctor replied: “Here's what I think. You are too weak now to start chemo, but you are medically eligible for hospice. Your goal, even on hospice, can be to get stronger, eventually get discharged, get back home and come here for outpatient chemotherapy at Dana Farber, or at your local cancer center. I'll follow your care wherever you choose to be treated for as long as you want me to. And if you don't achieve our wish for you to regain your strength, you'll already be on hospice, where you'll need to be, with providers who know and love you and your family.
“Like I said, it's a long shot, but I think it is reasonable to hope for more. I believe in hope.”
By now it is 9:30 p.m. How can we reach Dr. Enzinger at such an hour? Somehow, by the grace of God, our son Zack gets her at home and hands the phone to his mom. My wife asks us to step into the hallway.
A hush falls over us. Their conversation is private and holy, a sacred moment that transforms them both.
More contributions from Robert Zucker
