My one major Emo post of the year...
Jul. 19th, 2005 02:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gimmick_gameWell, since it's officially July 19th now, and I really can't sleep, I figured I'd do this now. Today is the 1 year anniversary of the day my boyfriend's mother passed away. She was very, VERY dear to me, and especially today, I miss her so much. I'm going to put the bulk of this entry under a cut, because it will most likely be pretty long. This is not a plee for sympathy, it's just my way of getting through this. Thank you.
I met Debbie Frankenfield about 4 and a half years ago. In fact, it was Easter Sunday of 2001. BJ, who was not yet my boyfriend, had invited me to a Easter picnic for his mom's company. She worked for AMR-Sunstar, an ambulance company. I of course agreed, wanting to spend more time with my crush. Little did I know that a wonderful person was going to come into my life that day. When I met her, her hair was only about an inch long, and very fine, but she was all smiles. I inquired as to her condition, and she gladly obliged, letting me know she'd had breast cancer and had recently gone into remission, ending her weekly treatments. Later that week, BJ and I officially started dating. We didn't want to let his family know, because he wasn't sure how they would react. After all, I had just turned 16 and he wouldn't be 15 until June. We "secretly" dated, going out with groups and seeing each other at school. One day, after a Mage Knight tournament (yes I'm a geek, get off it) BJ told me that his mother "wished he would find someone like me." And she even called me peppy and bubbly.
After a while, it was obvious we were dating, and his mother welcomed me in as part of the family. She was still undergoing monthly chemo treatments to build bone up over the tumors she had on her spine and hips. You see, about a year and half prior to meeting her, she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer which had spread through her lymph nodes. Morton Plant hospital didn't even want to treat her, she was so bad. Luckily, she found Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa, and began treatment. She nearly died, but fought through it and finally went into remission.
Everything had been going fine for about 2 years. She was still in pain every day (she wouldn't let on to it) but especially after the treatments, but she still smiled. We went on disney trips, and did a lot of other stuff together. Then the day that BJ and his family was leaving for a trip to Atlanta with the marching band, she pulled both of us aside and told us it had come back. They'd found a few more spots and were going to start the treatments again.
Unfortunately, her insurance had changed and the new insurance wouldn't cover Moffitt. She went to the Bardmoor Outpatient Center to recieve treatment. While a great center, they did not have the facilities to offer the new and experimental treatments that had saved her life before at Moffitt.
Things were getting better for about a year. Then the chemo stopped working. She was finally able to go back to Moffitt, and after about 2 more tries with treatment options, she was given a choice. Either try a chemo that would kill her already weakend heart (the other treatments had caused painful palpitations and weakend her heart considerably) or stop treatment all together and enjoy what she had left. She chose the latter.
The night of BJ's senior band banquet she told us. We all cried, but we didn't think such a fickle illness could truly take down such a strong woman. That was the end of April 2004. She'd already been off the chemo for 2 weeks, and it was starting to show.
By BJ's graduation at the end of May, she had a tumor taking up half of her liver. She could barely walk on her own, and had taken on a yellow tint, and lost most of her hair. She had to be in a wheelchair for his graduation cerimony.
Hospice had started coming out weekly to drain the fluids that were making her look 9 months pregnant with twins, due to her almost non-functioning liver.
By BJ's birthday on June 13th, she was very sick. She was barely able to make his small birthday party held at Skyline Chili and ended up having to rest in the motorhome half way through it.
After that, things went downhill quickly. She still worked from home, but had put in her resignation, and was only cleaning up the last of the paperwork that needed to be done. She'd gone through her jewlery and other items and passed them out (I got a large bag of stuffed animals, a precious cross, and a pair of hamburger earings-so Debbie-like to name a few). She also put together things for the new Band Treasurer, even though hospice was coming daily now and she was starting to take morphine.
Monday, July 19th started as any normal day for me. I'd skiped working OT that Saturday to go see her, and she'd been very out of it, laying on the hospice bed that had been delivered that day. I promised to order her some hand sanitizer from AVON (I was a rep then) and said goodbye before leaving for a movie with B. As I was leaving, I poked my head through the door and told her I loved her. That was the last thing I ever said to her.
I was at work when I got the call from BJ. He'd been up at USF taking care of some paperwork with Adam, and arrived home approximately an hour before she passed. The night before, he'd written a story for her, that he'd gotten up early and printed out for her to read, just because he had a feeling too. He had originally thought to give it to her after he got home. I think the same force that told me to tell her I loved her told him to write and print that then.
When he called, I broke down, I screamed, and I cried. I had encountered death before, but not like this. My grandfather had passed away when I was 10, but he was older, and had been sick for quite some time. One of my best friend's passed away from Lukemia the begining of my sophomore year, but none of it had hit me as much as this did.
My mom came and picked me up and drove me to Debbie's house. I had been told she'd already been taken away. She hadn't. Her mother had pulled a sheet up, but I happened to walk in as soon as she was pulling it down for Debbie's ex-husband-- BJ's father.
I saw her and broke down. That wasn't my Debbie. That wasn't my adoptive mommy. That was someone who was sick. Through all of this, even loosing her hair, Debbie never looked truly sick, not until then.
I broke down, and I couldn't go say goodbye, because I already had, when she was still there.
After they had taken her away, we all sat around and shared stories of her love and courage. It was very healing, but nothing will ever replace the hole in my heart that was formed the day Debbie left us to join her Grandpa Zippy.
It pains me to think of all the things she will miss in BJ's life. His college graduation, his wedding, his med school graduation, her grandchildren. It's not fair that someone so young should miss that.
I don't believe in God, but I believe in Angels, because Debbie was one. Plain and simple. There was not a single person who did not like/love the woman, and she hated no one. She touched the lives of everyone she ever met, and we were all very, VERY sad to see her go. But she lived on in our hearts, and I know she's watching down on all of us, and smacking us upside the head when we do something stupid.
I know it may sound weird, but she has talked to me in my dreams. I've had a few, where I will be in the middle of something and she will appear, looking just as I remember her, sparse hair on her head I used to braid for her, and a big smile on her face. I will ask her why she's there. She'll always say just to say hi. And then I'll ask her- "You do know you're dead right?" She'll laugh and say of course, and we'll talk. Just random stuff. I know it's not just a normal dream because if it was, she'd be alive in it, not passed.
I haven't had one of those dreams in a while, but I hope she drops by again soon. I miss her so much.
To Debbie, my surrogate/adoptive Mommy, I miss you very much, M*A*S*H buddy!
Thank you to all who read this, and I hope that my view of Debbie's life has touched you in some way, as her life touched all that she knew.
I met Debbie Frankenfield about 4 and a half years ago. In fact, it was Easter Sunday of 2001. BJ, who was not yet my boyfriend, had invited me to a Easter picnic for his mom's company. She worked for AMR-Sunstar, an ambulance company. I of course agreed, wanting to spend more time with my crush. Little did I know that a wonderful person was going to come into my life that day. When I met her, her hair was only about an inch long, and very fine, but she was all smiles. I inquired as to her condition, and she gladly obliged, letting me know she'd had breast cancer and had recently gone into remission, ending her weekly treatments. Later that week, BJ and I officially started dating. We didn't want to let his family know, because he wasn't sure how they would react. After all, I had just turned 16 and he wouldn't be 15 until June. We "secretly" dated, going out with groups and seeing each other at school. One day, after a Mage Knight tournament (yes I'm a geek, get off it) BJ told me that his mother "wished he would find someone like me." And she even called me peppy and bubbly.
After a while, it was obvious we were dating, and his mother welcomed me in as part of the family. She was still undergoing monthly chemo treatments to build bone up over the tumors she had on her spine and hips. You see, about a year and half prior to meeting her, she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Breast Cancer which had spread through her lymph nodes. Morton Plant hospital didn't even want to treat her, she was so bad. Luckily, she found Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa, and began treatment. She nearly died, but fought through it and finally went into remission.
Everything had been going fine for about 2 years. She was still in pain every day (she wouldn't let on to it) but especially after the treatments, but she still smiled. We went on disney trips, and did a lot of other stuff together. Then the day that BJ and his family was leaving for a trip to Atlanta with the marching band, she pulled both of us aside and told us it had come back. They'd found a few more spots and were going to start the treatments again.
Unfortunately, her insurance had changed and the new insurance wouldn't cover Moffitt. She went to the Bardmoor Outpatient Center to recieve treatment. While a great center, they did not have the facilities to offer the new and experimental treatments that had saved her life before at Moffitt.
Things were getting better for about a year. Then the chemo stopped working. She was finally able to go back to Moffitt, and after about 2 more tries with treatment options, she was given a choice. Either try a chemo that would kill her already weakend heart (the other treatments had caused painful palpitations and weakend her heart considerably) or stop treatment all together and enjoy what she had left. She chose the latter.
The night of BJ's senior band banquet she told us. We all cried, but we didn't think such a fickle illness could truly take down such a strong woman. That was the end of April 2004. She'd already been off the chemo for 2 weeks, and it was starting to show.
By BJ's graduation at the end of May, she had a tumor taking up half of her liver. She could barely walk on her own, and had taken on a yellow tint, and lost most of her hair. She had to be in a wheelchair for his graduation cerimony.
Hospice had started coming out weekly to drain the fluids that were making her look 9 months pregnant with twins, due to her almost non-functioning liver.
By BJ's birthday on June 13th, she was very sick. She was barely able to make his small birthday party held at Skyline Chili and ended up having to rest in the motorhome half way through it.
After that, things went downhill quickly. She still worked from home, but had put in her resignation, and was only cleaning up the last of the paperwork that needed to be done. She'd gone through her jewlery and other items and passed them out (I got a large bag of stuffed animals, a precious cross, and a pair of hamburger earings-so Debbie-like to name a few). She also put together things for the new Band Treasurer, even though hospice was coming daily now and she was starting to take morphine.
Monday, July 19th started as any normal day for me. I'd skiped working OT that Saturday to go see her, and she'd been very out of it, laying on the hospice bed that had been delivered that day. I promised to order her some hand sanitizer from AVON (I was a rep then) and said goodbye before leaving for a movie with B. As I was leaving, I poked my head through the door and told her I loved her. That was the last thing I ever said to her.
I was at work when I got the call from BJ. He'd been up at USF taking care of some paperwork with Adam, and arrived home approximately an hour before she passed. The night before, he'd written a story for her, that he'd gotten up early and printed out for her to read, just because he had a feeling too. He had originally thought to give it to her after he got home. I think the same force that told me to tell her I loved her told him to write and print that then.
When he called, I broke down, I screamed, and I cried. I had encountered death before, but not like this. My grandfather had passed away when I was 10, but he was older, and had been sick for quite some time. One of my best friend's passed away from Lukemia the begining of my sophomore year, but none of it had hit me as much as this did.
My mom came and picked me up and drove me to Debbie's house. I had been told she'd already been taken away. She hadn't. Her mother had pulled a sheet up, but I happened to walk in as soon as she was pulling it down for Debbie's ex-husband-- BJ's father.
I saw her and broke down. That wasn't my Debbie. That wasn't my adoptive mommy. That was someone who was sick. Through all of this, even loosing her hair, Debbie never looked truly sick, not until then.
I broke down, and I couldn't go say goodbye, because I already had, when she was still there.
After they had taken her away, we all sat around and shared stories of her love and courage. It was very healing, but nothing will ever replace the hole in my heart that was formed the day Debbie left us to join her Grandpa Zippy.
It pains me to think of all the things she will miss in BJ's life. His college graduation, his wedding, his med school graduation, her grandchildren. It's not fair that someone so young should miss that.
I don't believe in God, but I believe in Angels, because Debbie was one. Plain and simple. There was not a single person who did not like/love the woman, and she hated no one. She touched the lives of everyone she ever met, and we were all very, VERY sad to see her go. But she lived on in our hearts, and I know she's watching down on all of us, and smacking us upside the head when we do something stupid.
I know it may sound weird, but she has talked to me in my dreams. I've had a few, where I will be in the middle of something and she will appear, looking just as I remember her, sparse hair on her head I used to braid for her, and a big smile on her face. I will ask her why she's there. She'll always say just to say hi. And then I'll ask her- "You do know you're dead right?" She'll laugh and say of course, and we'll talk. Just random stuff. I know it's not just a normal dream because if it was, she'd be alive in it, not passed.
I haven't had one of those dreams in a while, but I hope she drops by again soon. I miss her so much.
To Debbie, my surrogate/adoptive Mommy, I miss you very much, M*A*S*H buddy!
Thank you to all who read this, and I hope that my view of Debbie's life has touched you in some way, as her life touched all that she knew.
