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When Cancer Wins: A Surviving Spouse's Story Chapter 4 - Compassion and Love of Others I interject this chapter here because it relates not to one specific time but to the entire ordeal. Also, I cannot exactly remember the timing of some things - I wish I had, but I did not keep a specific log of time and events. It is always easy to view the world as a cold place, and people as uncaring. It’s even easier to do this when you are watching a loved one slowly lose an impossible battle. But on several occasions, the actions of others made me completely reverse such thoughts. From the onset of Jan’s illness, the management of her bus depot and her fellow drivers, and even her students, showed us a level of compassion and love that left us both in tears on more than one occasion. I believe it was about ten days after Jan left work in early March that they came to pick up her bus from our house. Another bus arrived, and out came two managers and a couple of her fellow drivers, and friends. They hadn’t just come to take the bus. They had stopped at a grocery store, and they had bought bags and bags of groceries and staple goods. Out of their own pockets. I remember after we watched them drive away, that Jan and I held each other and cried. I knew she was crying because of their kindness, but also knew she was crying because her bus was gone. Over the next days, while we tripped to hospitals, waited for test results, suffered the reality of her diagnosis, and began the chemo treatments, an outpouring of love and caring arrived in our mailbox and at our door. Cards and letters abounded, and she received a large manila envelope full of handmade get-well cards from her kindergarten students. They had made them on classroom time - Jan was that special to the teachers and students. She tearfully read each one and recounted valued thoughts about each student. It didn't end there though, as cards poured in from her elementary and high school students too. I began to realize just how much she had truly come to mean to so many people. I was still trying to make it to work, although many nights got missed. With the 200 kilometer drive, round trip, to work and then, as often as not, another 80 - 200 kilometers to hospitals, the mileage was rapidly piling up on the car. It got neglected, forgotten amid other issues, and the unthinkable happened. Shortly after leaving the house one night, the engine blew up. My own fault. It had been overdue for an oil and filter change when Jan first got sick. It had since been driven for another several thousand kilometers, without a thought. Something in the camshaft and valve train broke due to lack of oil. As if we didn’t have enough problems, now we were in big financial trouble. No paycheck for Jan. No way for me to get to work. No money to fix the car. I phoned into work, explaining I wouldn’t be there, and why. A few minutes later, I got a return phone call. I had already used up most of my vacation days on hospital and treatment visits, but one of my co-workers, who just happened to be present when I phoned in, took it upon himself to canvass others to cover my shifts for me. Volunteers jumped to the challenge. These guys worked 16-hour days, covering their own shifts and mine, and bought me three weeks of time off, which was more valuable than they’ll ever know, because it gave me three solid weeks with my wife. Three weeks when I wouldn’t get very many more. I still had no idea how we could afford to fix the car, and during a tearful conversation between my wife and her manager, we received a gift of unbelievable proportions. They offered to tow the car to the bus garage and get the head mechanic to work on it. Not only that, they’d give us the use of a spare company van. That same day, a tow truck arrived and towed our car away. And then later, the van arrived, with another bus to take the driver back. And both were filled with more groceries than you can imagine. Her colleagues had organized a food drive. Jan and I went from tears of despair to tears of appreciation in the space of just a few hours. If that wasn’t enough, we learned that the head mechanic had located an almost new engine for us, and it would cost us only $700. And… her bus depot was organizing a walk-a-thon to benefit Jan and Yvonne (another driver also with cancer). The cost of the engine would be subtracted from what they raised, if enough money was available. Enough!? The participants went crazy, and even after our new engine was paid for, we received nearly $3000. This, from a relatively small school bus yard. People who do what they do because they love it, not because they get rich. People who sacrificed their time to get support from local businesses. Local businesses who gave because they honestly cared. I don’t know what would have happened to us if the folks at Laidlaw Orangeville hadn’t stepped up to the plate and did what they did. They gave Jan and I something very special when we needed it most - tears of joy. I’ll always be grateful to them and those who participated. One of the bus drivers had even gone to see the veterinarian that we took our animals to. Not to ask for a huge donation, just to help in the walk-a-thon, but that is what she got! We received a cheque for $500! More than the vet ever made from us, I‘m sure. I must also give mention to my employer, Canadian National, who allowed me to take my vacation as individual days when I needed them, allowed others to cover my shifts, and even put up with me booking days off on short notice or failing to book them off at all. They didn’t have to accommodate my absences, but they did, and I’m grateful for their understanding. Their acceptance of my erratic attendance extended not only through my wife’s illness but also afterward - it was over two months after her death before I resumed normal attendance. For my son and I, this was a key element in our attempt to start a new life. My job starts at 11 pm and ends at 7 am. Brad and I both went through the “good days, bad days” syndrome, and sometimes it was impossible for me to get enough sleep during the day or abandon my son in the evening. On more than one occasion, I was so exhausted that I slept through my evening alarm and didn’t wake up until morning! Subsequently, things got worse as I was forced to take extended time off for health reasons that resulted from the stress of my wife's death. I know it caused problems but they never protested my absence and I will remain grateful to them for their understanding. Family is also obviously important, and I must cite my own mother as being instrumental in helping us through this ordeal. I was 52, my mother was 91... but she was there to help when Brad and I needed her most. Like many, I was not prepared for the costs associated with illness and death. They are extensive and prolonged. Even insurance won’t always help with initial costs. I will be eternally grateful to my mother for helping us get through what I can only describe as emotional and financial hell. I had many days when I thought the bank would soon phone and demand money or take our house, but my mother kept the hounds at bay. I knew that we could eventually repay her, but the payments are due long before any benefits come in. Beyond money, there are many other needed methods of support during such times and we were graced by many examples. Not only were family and close friends a key part of helping us cope, but so too were people who didn’t have to involve themselves at all. Yet they did. Outpourings of care and concern came from all over - our mailbox was always full and the phone was always ringing. I look back now and I realize that almost everyone who ever met Jan found something in her that was special and unique. People cared, and they wanted us to know it. In the hospitals, social workers and volunteers came forward to offer any help they could. At first, I suppose I was reluctant to take their help - not because they weren’t sincere, but because I had never encountered a situation that I couldn’t deal with on my own. But this was different. Very different. My world was upside-down and I didn’t know where to begin in order to deal with many of the things that arose. They were instrumental in advising me of many social programs and services that were available, both financial and spiritual. They helped me submit government applications and forms for assistance that I didn’t even know existed. Not only that, but they were there to talk to when things were tough and just talking about it was often therapeutic. They helped my son too. One volunteer even took my son shopping in late August to help him get school supplies. I don’t know where many of these people get their strength. If I often had to deal with families facing a terminal illness, I think I’d quit and go elsewhere. But I’m very glad that these people exist, that they care, and that they choose to help.
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