Thank You To An Angel

How do I begin to say thank you to someone who changed my life? In this particular instance, I think one of the ways would be to follow her advice and in so doing, to live my best life.

A couple of months ago, I went to see my homeopath, Dr. Dos Ramos Richter. After seven months of grieving, I was feeling so sick I did not know what to do and I was struggling to go on. I had begun to realise that mourning takes its toll on your physical health. I had been in a bad emotional place from August 2012, when Russel had first been diagnosed with the melanoma on his arm.

At first I had hoped and believed for eighteen months that Russ had been healed, was completely cancer free and that the melanoma scare would have no further impact on our lives. I could not have been more wrong.

When Russel had his brain seizure in April 2014 and ended up in the emergency ward in a Port Charlotte hospital, it was a dreadful shock. I could barely comprehend that we had gone from the all clear to stage four cancer in eighteen months. It did dawn on me upon reflection, that I had inwardly carried the fear of that happening from 8 August 2012, when Russ had told me the mole on his arm had become a melanoma.

I knew and understood the severity of melanoma cancer and the mortality rates, but I chose to believe that Russel was going to be fine and put all my faith in God. I did nothing, except to occasionally remind Russ that he really needed to have further testing and check-ups and to go and see the doctor. He refused and I did not push. After all, my husband was a grown man, albeit one who did like to live with his head in the sand about certain things.

During the seventeen months, from Russel’s brain seizure to the day he died, we had many discussions regarding his treatment and the way forward. We talked about all the options in depth. Russ made his choices and I respected his decisions, even though it was not the way I would have chosen to go. He wanted to go the regular oncology route, have chemotherapy if necessary, and follow traditional cancer treatment.

I wanted to change his whole life, from his lack of faith to his diet. My choice would have been to go the natural route and particularly, to seek alternative treatment with my homeopath, Dr. Dos Ramos Richter. Some years ago, Aileen had been very ill and we had sought her help. I believe that Dr. Dos Ramos Richter saved my daughter’s life. So that is the path I would have chosen.

However, it was Russel’s journey and in order to still feel that he had some control over his choices, I had to let him pick his own path. I did try to persuade him a few times to make what I felt were the necessary changes to his lifestyle to combat the disease, but he quite stubbornly refused and stuck to his decisions.

It was so difficult to watch Russ deteriorate day by day, sleeping more, eating less and his only food choices were Weetbix and coffee. It absolutely broke my heart when he even stopped wanting to have the occasional egg on toast at Mugg and Bean. In those last days of his life, he was down to eating about half a Weetbix a day. Not enough to sustain a mouse, let alone a grown man.

I remember him having the strength to come and sit in the lounge with me one evening, to have his supper, and on that occasion he was feeling quite good. He said to me, “I feel great, Hen. Imagine if I have healed myself with Weetbix?” My heart breaks even now just thinking about it.

Russel seemed to have no comprehension of the seriousness of his condition. That he was getting worse by the minute, not better. He had got so thin, he was like a skeleton with skin on. When people would come to visit, he would show them his skinny legs, almost as if he was proud of them. It was so strange to me. This man who once had such sexy legs even one of his male co-workers had once commented on them. My “sexy legs” now had such frail, wobbly “pins” as he used to call them, they could barely hold him up.

A few weeks before Russ passed away, he suddenly took a renewed interest in food. He began to ask for some Chinese food, “slap” chips and barbeque chicken wings, accompanied by celery and ranch dressing. It delighted my heart to see him eating with such relish and enjoying what he ate. Russel decided that he wanted to drink something different and we went through a number of soft drink choices, before he went back to his favourite, Pepsi.

This phase lasted only a short while, before Russ returned to only Weetbix and I had to prepare his food. He could no longer get out of bed to do it himself, or even to sit with me in the lounge while he ate. I had to bring his food and drink to his bed. Then he could no longer get himself to the bathroom and he had a couple of falls trying. I got in a commode and did everything I could to make it easy for Russel to still help himself a bit and keep some of his dignity.

I won’t go into all the difficulties we had to overcome, or the humiliation Russ felt about some the tasks I had to help him with. When he said to me, “Hen, you should not have to do this.” To which I replied, “I am your wife. I love you and there is nothing I would not do to help you right now.” Russel cried. I cried. We both cried. A lot.

Eventually, we came to that place on the journey, where I had to sit him up in bed and feed him. I remember now, with my heart breaking, how he determinedly tried to lift a spoonful of Weetbix to his mouth with a weak, trembling hand and he could not do it.

I tried not to make a big deal out of it and I simply continued chatting to him as usual and gently took the spoon from his hand and began to feed him. He could no longer lift a cup of coffee to his mouth and I had to help him. I had been given a beautiful china cup, by my Mom’s friend, Chippie, which had a spout like a teapot and a handle, with the top part half covered. I used this to give Russel tiny sips of water and Pepsi.

Then, he did not want to eat or drink at all anymore and two days later Russ passed away. Leaving his broken earthly body, to go to his new home in the sky. I will never forget looking at Russel’s body without his spirit. Just a shell of the man he once was. That image will remain burned into my brain for as long as I live.

After all those many months of living in fear of that day, it came, despite my hopes and longing for Russ to be healed and survive. I have missed him every minute, of every day, since he passed away. I have wanted to give up on myself, hope, life, God. The pain has been too much to bear.

Seven months of mourning and grieving passed, before I realised that I was not going to survive this if I did not begin to take care of myself. So I made an appointment with Dr Dos Ramos Richter. I told her all I had been through and that I was feeling suicidal. That I did not want to go on without Russel. Well, this doctor was exactly the miracle I needed. Within a month of being on her treatment, I began to feel like a human being again.

At my next appointment, I mentioned to Dr Dos Ramos Richter that I was so sorry that I could not have got Russel to her for treatment. Maybe she could have saved him. She looked me in the eyes and said gently, but plainly, “I could not have saved Russel. His cancer was too far gone. The only thing I could have done, was slightly improve his quality of life, but there is nothing I could have done to make him better.”

With those few comments, Dr Dos Ramos Richter, took away from me a massive stick that I had been beating myself with. I had kept thinking that, if only I had got Russel to my homeopath, he could have been well. Would not have happened! As Dr Dos Ramos Richter pointed out to me, if we had seen her with a stage one cancer diagnosis, it could have made a huge difference, but not at stage four.

Dr Dos Ramos Richter also pointed out to me, as have many others, that I did everything humanly possible to help Russ, and I did my very best. His life was in the hands of God. Nothing I, or anyone else, had done could have made a difference without God’s say so. Whatever my Heavenly Father’s reason is for taking Russel home when He did, is known only to Himself. I only know that even if I had done a few things differently, or even done more if I could have, the outcome would have been the same, because it was time for Russ to go home to Father God.

Did his suffering break my heart? Yes! Unequivocally yes! Would I have changed it if I could? Without a single hesitation, yes! But it was not my call to make and I simply, humanly, did all I could for Russel under the circumstances.

I will continue to miss and long for Russ. He was, after all, my husband for twenty seven years and part of my life for twenty eight. But slowly, one day at a time, I am learning to live without him. Now, thanks to Dr Dos Ramos Richter, I am able to cope. My grief is easing. My energy is returning. I am beginning to appreciate the fact that I have a life and a purpose to fulfill.

I still think Russel got the better part of the deal. He gets to be in heaven with Jesus forever, before me! Nevertheless, my life is in the same loving hands that took Russ home, my Heavenly Father. So I am here, planning to live my best life, to honour Russel and to glorify God. Onward Ho!

Thank you, with heartfelt appreciation, to my two earthly angels, Anneliese Rix, who helped me through the initial stages of mourning and coming to terms with the loss of Russ, and Dr Dos Ramos Richter, who is helping me to heal my body from the ravages of grief. God bless you both for your commitment and dedication to those who are suffering.

Now, all glory, honour and praise to The Most High God, the Great “I Am”, to the one true living God, our Father in heaven. Thank You for Your good plan for my life and that You hold me in the palm of Your Hand. I trust You with my future, whatever that may bring. I belong to You, now and forever. Hallowed be Thy Name.

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