Devoncat no more

I am so very sorry Hans. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. ~Jenny

This is so very sad—not only was her bucket full of hope but, so many other things determination,wit,caring,compassion,intelligence etc…I feel very lucky to have some of that spilled on me by way of her posts. To Hans and her family I extend my deepest sympathies.

Hans,

I’ve struggled trying to come up with adequate words to express how I feel about Kris’s passing. I am fairly new on this board and didn’t exchange emails with Kris, but I feel through her posts I had a friend that helped me through some very difficult times. When Ben and I went to Denmark recently we drove over the Oresund bridge into Sweden and I waved at the two of you and thanked Kris for all her help (I’m fairly certain Ben thought I was crazy)!

Thank you for coming back and continuing on with the detailed posts, hopefully it helps you and I am sure Kris would have wanted us to know.

My deepest condolences, stay strong in the days and weeks ahead and come back to see us anytime.

Tom

I should tell you something

Her decline was quite sudden. The las two days she got noticeably worse, but it all really happened in about 24 hours. The day before we were supposed to leave we had a last patient-doctor conference, and discussed the fact that she had had no bleeding in her stomach for three days, which the doctor thought might be a sign that the treatment had reduced the tumour activity, and that it might begin to shrink some during the next couple of weeks. Very hopeful news, and they were the last she got.

She was a little confused that day, and more tired than usual and halucinated (but the morphine had made her do that before). She needed help to get across the room to the bathroom, and wanted to go to the bathroom more than usual. (She had not eaten for three months.) She slept while I did the packing, but she was very much with it when we discussed the fact that we had been over charged for two units of trombozyte blood.

Then followed the not so pretty part. – In the night she again needed help getting to the bathroom, and got very, very confused. She forgot why she was in the bathroom, for a brief moment she didn’t recognise me and asked me “why are you trying to kill me”. She must have sensed at this point that something was very, very wrong. I rang for a nurse, and we tried to soothe her while they got an oxygen tube for her. She refused to leave the tiny bathroom, insisted that we go in the other direction, and when she couldn’t get out there said thet she was “going home to South Carolina, where there is only one wall”.

After we got her out it seemed to get a little better, perhaps the oxygen started working. We got her back into bed, but she kept wanting the bathroom so a potty chair was brought and me and the nurses (when they got there in time to help me, she would’t wait for them) helped her up and down, and stroked her while she sat on it. But she wasn’t quite so out of it anymore for she asked that people sould stop touching her, and tried to get rid of the nurses but kept wanting me there. What came out when she used the potty chair was just blood.

In the morning she had a moment of clarity, and when I asked if she wanted to go down for her last hyperthermia treatment she asked how long it was till we would leave the clinic, and when I told her she still had some four hours she said she wanted to rest. At this point I really thought the bad part was over.

I was still trying to get us ready to leave, dilusional – I was still hoping that she was just confused because of low oxygen – and there was one point when I was out of the room when she got up and fell, so that the doctor found her sitting on the floor. After that someone was with her constantly. She was sleeping most of the time, and was a little hard to contact, but she didn’t seem confused any more. She could only say a word or two, but we talked about if we would be able to leave that day as planned, and other things. But mostly she slept. She noticed though, when the doctor wanted to talk to me outside the room (when he finally told me it was the beginning of the end) and asked me about it. I lied to her as best I could…

After that she basically slept, her breathing very laboured. I left her with a nurse so I could call her parents and sister, and my mom, and then got back to sit with her, holding her hand as she slept. Perhaps an hour or so later she skipped a breath. She soon did it again and I when shook her she took only a few more. I had rung the bell, and the nurses and the doctor arrived just as she finally stopped breathing. There was no real drama, no machines or frantic resuscitation attempts. She just passed away.

In her confused moments she was sometimes very scared, and she talked about death. But that passed, and I don’t think she understood why she was in such a bad way. She died just as she had lived – with hope.

Hans – Thank you for your post. As a result of our love for Kris, we love you too. I was worried about you being all alone there in Germany and was wondering how you were doing. I am grateful for the information. It is good that you are going to spend some time with friends for a bit until you can return to Sweden. I love that Kris wanted her ashes in a cookie jar! I think that is perfect! And I think you should always have some tulips nearby when they are in bloom. I will think of her – and you – every day. Peace – Nancy

Hans,

I would add funny, feisty, fearless, fashionable, and–as Kris herself often admitted–unapologetically farty.

The time with her friends sounds like a good idea, take it slow, you are very fragile.

Patty

I am completely speechless…I cannot believe it…

Kris was an amazing woman and she was such an inspiration to me. She was about my age and this news really hits home.

There are no words, and I know that nothing can make you feel better at this time but please know that my thoughts and prayers are with you, Hans and all of Kris’ family. The next few days will be difficult, to say the least but I am sure that you will pull through as Kris would have wanted you to…

Hope you find the strength and courage to go on and hope that each day that passes gets easier.

RIP devoncat, Kris. You are with the love of my life, my one and only, my mommy. Please take good care of each other, until we meet again.

Emily xoxo