As I, Clyde Schremp, husband, write this it is Monday, November 12, 2013. This is the story of my Jo’s last six months.
Why could I not see it coming? She did. She quit facebook about two years ago. She quit e-mail about six months ago. She did play her puzzle games on the computer … a couple times a week at most. She was withdrawing. Even Bingo, which she loved, was no longer a great attraction. The casino’s had lost their interest. The last time I called Bingo at the Senior Center, which I did every Monday and Wednesday, she did not want to stop at Culvers Restaurant for frozen custard, even though the flavor of the day was Turtle, which we both liked. She was withdrawing from the world.
On October 21, Jo had lab and an appointment with her Oncologist with the results of her blood analysis. Her white count was 11 (should be below 10) and her platelet count was 115 (should be between 130 and 400). The doctor said if things continue, it could develop into Leukemia. There was only a 5% chance.
On October 24th I noticed a weird mole/blood blister on her back. After several days, I scheduled an immediate appointment with a Dermatologist. He took a biopsy, stating that it looked benign. Several days I noticed the same formation on the right side of her face.
About Thursday, October 31,she was in the den crying. I asked what was wrong. She said she had a nightmare. Having always heard that telling some a dream prevents it from coming true, I asked her what it was about. She said she dreamed she was dying. I asked if that was so bad. She said it was only because she knew it.
Saturday, November 2, she showed me her saved up allowance and where she kept it. She like to play the penny slots at the casinos. She had never shown me her money because I didn’t care.
Sunday she did not feel like going to church or even going out to eat. Monday, she wanted to sit and reminisce about all the old times and wonderful times we had known: our first year in New Mexico, helicopter ride in Hawaii, balloon ride and skiing in Colorado when we lived there, and all the good times we had. We agreed that we had a wonderful life, full of love and adventure. Monday I called Bingo at the Senior Center, but she did not feel like going. She was spending more time resting.
Tuesday, November 5, I walked to the athletic club, did a weight workout, came home and she was still sleeping. I did some work on the computer, noticing she was groaning lowly and talking in her sleep. At 10am I woke her up. Her mouth was pulled in, she was very weak, and she was confused. I called our family doctor and he said to get her to ER immediately. She got ready with some help but could not walk out to the car in the garage; she sat on her walker and I pushed her.
We got to Lake Pointe hospital and they ran a blood test. The test show her white count 83 (should be less than 10) and her platelet count at 25 (should be between 130 and 400). I told our daughters that I had a vision of a scene from the book “Little Women”. As a child I fell in love with the name Jo and that book and saw the movie. The trees turned color and that fall Jo died. I was choked up. Later Pam, our younger daughter, said it was Beth that died, not Jo. That did not change my premonition. Her Oncologist came to the hospital and said she need to be transported to Medical City, Dallas. He had a collogue there who was a specialist in Leukemia, which is what he felt she had. It took that night to process paperwork, so she spent the night at Lake Pointe. Before leaving Lake Pointe on Wednesday, I called the Dermatologist to see what the report on the mole/blood blister. I explained the results of the blood test and he said it was urgent that they had the results of the biopsy; is was not good. The results were faxed to the Medical City doctor.
She was transported to Medical City, Dallas, and they did a bone marrow biopsy that same day, along with some other tests. Her condition would not allow them to sedate her for the biopsy, so they just numbed the area. When they drew the fluid she screamed because of the pain. The she apologized for making so much noise. I told her she was not that loud but had every right to scream. Again she said, “I’m sorry I made so much noise.”
The next day, Thursday, Jo said, “I just want to go home, back to my house.“ Then the doctor and several other people came in with the results of the bone marrow biopsy: Acute Leukemia. The doctor said she had two days to live. He stated that there were two treatments, one of which he would not consider because of her weakened condition. The other had a 50/50 chance of working and her odds may be less. She looked at me and being very afraid said, “What am I going to do?” I was in tears and said, “I don’t know. I want to go with you.” Our younger daughter said, “No, he can’t go with you. We need him here.” Jo said, “Then you take good care of him.” Then she said to the doctor, “Can you just put me to sleep.” and the doctor said, “Yes, if that is what you want.” We did not opt for that, but opted for no treatment, only pain control. A nurse told me later that the second treatment would have made her so sick she would have wanted to die.
I talked to the staff then about hospice and taking her home. They informed me that they could do as much as hospice, which turned out to be true. Also, they said ride back home in the ambulance would be more miserable than the ride down. She said the ride in the ambulance to the hospital was horrible, and she was much weaker now. I called Jo’s sister and husband in SC; they would leave Friday get there Saturday at the latest.
They gave Jo some medication orally and she threw it up. A sip of water was thrown up with something that looked like coffee, possibly dried blood, then dry heaves. They installed a PICC Line in her arm so they could do IV and blood draws without sticking her anymore. I watched the bone marrow biopsy and PICC Line installation, learning more that I wanted to know.
At this point, they starting administering medication to keep her comfortable. That night, family and friends came. People were in the hallway outside the room; the nurses said we had to clear the hallway.
Friday morning at 4am, the nurse came into the room stating that they had two other rooms we could move her into, one was a little bigger than the present room, the other was a suite. We chose the suite. Our whole family was able to camp out.
I had contacted the Chaplain in the prison where our son is situated. He arranged a telephone conversation with our son. Jo could only slur some words, but our son could understand. They told each other they loved each other and talked a couple minutes. Jo was saying farewell to her family. I told her over and over how much I loved her and that she was the only woman for me. There would never be anyone else.
All this time, Jo’s vital signs were normal, except she had a little fever.
Jo’s sister and husband arrived Friday night. It is a nineteen hour trip; they made it in fifteen hours driving the speed limit. At 10pm, I asked them to remove all medication from Jo so she would gain consciousness and visit with her sister.
At 3am Saturday, we were able to talk to her. She was so weak she could not move, only mouth words. We all told her how much we loved her. I told her it was ok to go, that we would miss her. I then had her medicated again, into a deep sleep.
Around 6am Jo’s eyes became partially open. I told the nurse that she had entered a coma. The nurse agreed. My crying did not change things.
At 7am a nurse came in and told me she had a room and bed in another room, that I had to get some rest. I had gotten two hours sleep in two days and a few hours the third day before that. I was following her when we got to the end of Jo’s bed and heard a nurse say, “Twelve.”, meaning respiration was twelve. Again a few minutes before Jo’s vital signs were normal. At I started to leave the end of her bed I shouted, “SHE’S GONE!!!!!” She had quit breathing. I had everyone in the room gather around and I prayed: “Lord, thank you for Jo and her life here. Welcome her into your presence, in Jesus Name.” The nurse confirmed that she had departed. I cried and cried and shouted in pain. My Jo was gone. MY JO WAS GONE!!! It was over. We stayed in the room for about an hour. I still hugged and kissed her. I had lived with that shell for fifty-four years. It was a huge part of my life and had just been ripped out. My grief was so severe that I wondered if I would have a heart attack. There were no signs that she would die at that moment. I think she knew I was leaving the room and picked that time; just my opinion.
On Sunday, November 10, we went to Rest Haven Funeral Home to make final arrangements. Jo and I had preplanned and prepaid our funerals exactly to the day, thirteen months earlier. We could not find Jo’s book about her funeral: what songs, etc. Now our two daughters just took over; I was numb. Yet, I am reminded that I felt selfish because attention was on me but they had lost their mother. They made all the decisions, for which I am most grateful. Our son-in-law, Darrell, made all the music arrangements. After making all the funeral arrangements, which took three hours, we went to Culver’s to eat. We were going through coupons when the assistant manager came out and gave us each a card for a free meal, so we ate free. The assistant manager and two employees had visited Jo in the hospital. It is a restaurant we have gone to quite a bit.
We are now back to November 12. We will have the viewing tomorrow and the funeral the next day. I did my four mile walk this morning. Then went to the doctor and got a prescription for a very mild sedative. While pulling into Kroger’s, I noticed all parking spaces taken so I headed to the far side of the lot. Then suddenly an empty space appeared to my right. I just laughed and said, “Jo, your at it again.”
Looking back, I can see that she was departing planet earth. She had quit facebook, then she quit email, then Bingo was not an attraction, then eating out, then having frozen custard. She had a free room at Choctaw Casino in OK each week in November, but was not interested. All these things had faded from her attention. The weird mole/blood blister. The blood blisters on her arms, the measles’ like spots on her back and face, the mole/blood spot on her face. Showing me where she kept her casino money, reminiscing talks. I can see it now, but was blind to it then. Also I did not see when she crossed over from being to lazy to do things to being too weak to do them.
I feel like a failure because I was unable to protect her. I was unable to see the future events from the past clues. I did not love and hug her enough. When did her lack of effort and “I don’t want to” turn into a “I can’t” because of her health? When did she become too weak instead of laziness? Why did I always feel she could do more? If I had known how weak she was I would have hugged and responded more lovingly and less judgmental. I know this is just playing the “If only” game. A large part of me died when she died. I have taking care of the housework and clothes washing for several years; I do not need her for that. Someone asked me one day, “Why do you still love her?” and I responded, “I have loved her so long I don’t know how to do anything else.”
As much as I would like to bring her back, I would not want her back in the health condition she was in: severe scoliosis, blood issues, dental problems, eyesight failing, swelling legs, obesity, entering diabetes, easy bruising, and on and on. She would not want to come back with those issues. She is with our LORD and probably would turn down any offer to come back, healthy or not.
November 16. While going through Jo’s craft room last week after the funeral, Sarah, our granddaughter, came across Jo’s funeral plan book. I was out doing errands. When I came home, they showed me the book. We were all weeping about the songs … and even a poem read at the funeral. The songs and poem were EXACTLY what she had written in her book. When I called the preacher and told him, he said, “You two are still one.” I was not aware that she had that poem.
Jo’s favorite Bible verses:
Matthew 5:3-9
Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
Isaiah 25:1
O LORD, thou art my God; I will exalt thee, I will praise thy name; for thou hast done wonderful things; thy counsels of old are faithfulness and truth.
My Jo taught me about the tenderness of God. I preached to her almost every day with words, but she preached to me with her actions. When my Dad passed away, my Mother said, “I never knew what a man I had.” and I must say, “I never knew what a woman I had in Jo.”
The prayers of the saints have sustained me and my family. I would not want to face this without God and His people. The grace of God covers a multitude of sin, and the comfort and peace of God covers the worst of sorrows.
In my heart from the above story, I am convinced that there was nothing anyone here on planet earth could have done to save Jo; I only wish I had been more compassionate toward her and loved her more.
