Learning to Live

Last week my Aunt Marga was rushed to the hospital with stomach pains.  She ended up having a tumor removed from her large intestine.  It was 5 cm wide and the doctors said it was hard as a rock. They took it to study to see if it was cancerous, even though they said they didn't really need to because they were already sure it was.  Because of the characteristics of the tumor, the doctors believed that Marga had cancer, and that they should start chemotherapy as soon as possible.

Nonetheless, Marga was stuck in the hospital waiting for the lab results on the tumor.  She stayed in a public hospital for people whose work insurance covered their treatments.  She was in a room with two other patients who had undergone similar surgeries.  The room was painted white, it had tile floors, it had 3 rolling hospital beds, 6 chairs for visitors/care takers, and no privacy curtains.  Being in this hospital was a significantly different experience from being in a hospital in the States.

My host sister, Celeste, stayed with my aunt every day from 7 in the morning till 7 at night.  She would run errands for the doctors and Marga, like bring blood samples to the lab or fill out paperwork.  At night, different family members would watch over Marga in the hospital.  It was pretty remarkable to see how close the family was during this time.  Everyone was pitching in and doing something, and there was an incredible amount of support for each other as well as for Marga.  During visiting hours, when more than just one person could be with the patients, it seemed like the whole extended family was in the hall of that hospital.

Someone explained to me that when a person finds out that they have cancer, it’s usually too late to do anything but buy time.  People were sure that Marga had cancer, which means that they were pretty sure that she limited time left to be with her family.  The heartbreak was visible and devastating.

For a week Marga was in the hospital.  There was someone with her for every moment of every day, and a plethora of visitors when it was permitted.  She continued to regain her color from her previous surgery and became more herself as the week went on.  It seemed, though, that time crept by as everyone looked forward to Tuesday, when we would know what the next step was.

On Tuesday, the news came that the tumor wasn’t cancerous and that Marga could go home and be with her kids again.  It was the best news that anyone could have asked for.  It was almost as though she has come back from the dead.  She’s still recovering from the surgery, but she’s doing a lot better and is continuing to improve.

This was a remarkable experience.  It reminded all of us of how delicate life is, and how we should treasure it.  It reminded me that time is precious and that I want to do something meaningful with mine.  It reminded me of the importance of a good support system of family and friends.

Here’s to you all and here's to Marga,

Sarah