Happy New Year

Jim is dying.

He probably only has a few days left since he stopped eating about a week ago. He has been in hospice for a couple weeks now.

The victim of a glioblastoma, a very aggressive type of brain tumor, Jim had most of it surgically removed at first diagnosis. Then he attempted drinking hydrogen peroxide as a therapy recommended as a cancer cureall by its proponents.

Jim opted out of chemotherapy and radiation treatments as they would only add a few months to his life. The peroxide seemed a viable alternative to him that would leave him far less debilitated.

It didn't work.

The blastoma returned with a vengeance.

From Thanksgiving on until Christmas, Jim was given steroids to help reduce swelling in his brain and give him an extra month or so of quality life. But the tumor has now overtaken that treatment.

When the inevitability of death is near, people become philosophical.

They say that Jim has lived a good, long active life. It has been full and rich.

They are right, of course. Jim was a missionary in Eritrea, in the horn of Africa, for many years. He has built buildings, been a craftsman and spent his life as an independent jack-of-all-trades. But I suspect if you asked him if he was ready to leave it all, he'd say no. Prior to the tumor, Jim was healthy and strong, even in his 70s.

It is this one wild growth that is taking it all away from him.

When a person enters hospice, it is not with the intent of medical care. It's not like going into a hospital for treatment. The goal of hospice is to make the patient as comfortable as possible as he or she approaches the end.

It is difficult to accept this notion. Jim hadn't taken any liquids and family members inquired as to an intravenous drip to forestall dehydration.

The hospice nurse had to spend some time explaining that Jim's lack of eating or drinking was all part of the dying process. Even now, it's still hard to envision a medical facility that doesn't fight to extend life, but rather enables it along in the opposite direction. But that's what hospice is meant to be.

Jim, I have been blessed to know you. You have always been a pleasant person to be around, and you have helped us out with some projects that required a craftsman's touch. Your willingness to give of your skill and time was appreciated more than you know. Your faith and service to the Lord has been inspirational.

When you finally step through the door we all must face one day, it will be with the welcoming words, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I shall set you over much; enter the joy of your Lord.”

God bless.