He Asked, "Am I Going to Die?" I Had to Tell Him, "Yes You Are." Beth's Story Part 4

I was diagnosed with breast cancer the day David received his metastasized tumor diagnosis. He was going to die.

I left his hospital room and went to surgery at another hospital. A friend went to David's hospital and helped transfer him several miles to my room at Mt. Sinai [in New York City].

I think it's the only time the hospital ever did that.

I couldn't be trying to recover and worrying about David and our kids. This way I could wake up and see him.

He woke from the surgery in the recovery room and asked, "Did they get the tumor? Am I going to die?" I knew after his surgery he was going to die and I had to tell him, "Yes you are."

That was October, 2000; he died Sept 8, 2001. We buried him Sept 10, 2001.

When we came home from the hospital, we were lying in bed. I said "Are we both going to die from cancer and leave these children alone?"

We both started crying with the additional thought that he was going to die before his daughter's [my step-daughter's] wedding.

At home we had a visiting nurse service and I recovered better than he did. Late December we started going to chemo together, but David's tumor stopped shrinking. He was getting sicker. That was late March, early April.

I said no to a hospital bed, that it's for the nurses' convenience. I said he is going to die in his own bed. He wasn't strong enough to have an opinion.

I was running things. He registered with hospice the day before his 53^rd bday. He was still rational and could get up for meals. He had a pump with morphine we named Bob. You had to take the morphine before you needed it. We'd say, "Take Bob with you."

David had an infection on his back and they didn't ask how I felt about doubling his morphine, they just did it, and then he was practically out of it. I want to be aware when I die, at home with my family by my side.

I feel good I was able to raise the boys, who were 13 and 19, by myself.

I remember not long after David died, taking my older son to buy a car. The guy quoted a price. I went into the bathroom and cried. I looked up at the ceiling and asked "David, what should I do?" I pulled myself together and offered a marginally lower price and felt I had accomplished something.

It's funny, after that I believed I could get through anything.

That was years ago. Today I notice how easy it is to lose sight of what is really important in my life, living with Stage 4 breast cancer and worrying about so many things.

I have lost both my parents and my husband.  But I spent last week shopping the sales in Milan with my son and his friend, who is exactly like a third son to me, having a spectacular time with them every minute. Then we spent this weekend at the beach with my boyfriend and my other son, his wife and my new baby granddaughter. 

When I was holding her on Saturday as she slept for an hour in my arms, I thought that, although I may die before her bat mitzvah (I would be 79 by then and have had Stage 4 for 15-1/2 years), I have this wonderful hour and it is a beautiful part of living a day at a time, sharing an hour or a day with the people I love the most in the world, and for that I am so very grateful.

What ways do you know that help people cope with knowing they are about to die?

For more of Beth's story as told to me, see:

• Caring for my Dying Husband at Home
• My Husband's Final Days and Funeral
• After my Husband Died, Dealing With His Possessions

For my own story of loss, that of my mom, see: 

Last Week My Mom Died: This Week I Celebrated Her Life as well as recent posts on my blog Confessions of a Worrywart 

Note:  Names in this article have been changed