Sensing that her pain was more intense, I knelt beside her and asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital. I told them we would cover all the cost of her care. They were hesitant to go because they don't even have money for food. I assured them we would cover that as well. I've mentioned the hospital as an option for pain control for several weeks. For the first time, Mamine agreed to go. We got the family ready and moved her painfully to the car. As she and her mother sat in the car, they began to cry. This is the first time I've seen Mamine cry. I often ask her if she is ok, or afraid. Her response is always, "Why? Afraid of what?" Today, however, she understood. She was crying for the life she knew she was leaving behind. That, possibly, today was the last time she would be at home.
We got her settled at the hospital and I wrote for regular pain medication. A family friend was there and asked me the same questions I've been asked too many times to count- Why is her leg like this? Can you treat her? Can't you cut it out? It is just as unpleasant to tell someone the 10th time that she is going to die and that we can do nothing than it was the first time. At least in America we have some understanding of cancer and its progression. Here they don't understand it. I could just as easily say she has a watermelon growing in her leg. Trying to get them to understand that this is not treatable is even harder for them to grasp. It is physically painful to discuss these things with them.
Now Mami will hopefully have good pain control. At least she will have some excitement and different scenery at the hospital since she hasn't left her courtyard since we took her home months ago. I do hope that she can enjoy her days at the hospital, as weird as that sounds, and feel loved and cared for by those of us around. Though aside from a miracle from God we cannot change her outcome, hopefully we can ease her pain and bring some joy in these days. Praying tonight that she finds hope in this hopeless situation.