Happy day-before-your-birthday, America!

I’ve written about last year’s trip to the recycling center on the 4th of July. I woke up today thinking about what a good time we had.

He was the ‘old’ Mike. Funny. Kind. Carefree. Mike never was a go-with-the-flow kinda guy, but that day, even stuck in traffic, he was.

The before-cancer Mike didn’t monitor his vital signs. Didn’t plan his life around treatments and tests and procedures. 

He didn’t work so hard to live.

That day we followed the advice he often gave his patients: enjoy your day.

It was like he wasn’t even sick.

We first learned Mike had cancer four years ago this month. Of all the cancers, he said his was the one he most feared. Esophageal cancer is treatable, but rarely curable.

Last fall, after two subsequent diagnoses, several hospitalizations and countless outpatient visits for hydration, he accepted hospice care. 

I’ve said before that hospice nurses are angels. I was reminded of that when I pulled that note from the Good Stuff jar. He wanted to die at home. His nurse suggested he would be more comfortable at Bowers.

They helped him more than I could have. And I’m grateful.