On Monday, a member of my son's neuroendocrine cancer support group died. Karen lost her battle with cancer after 7 years of fighting it with everything she had. On some level, she became another statistic in a disease with a 10 year survival rate of only 30%. While statistically average in her struggle to survive, she was extraordinary in how she lived with the disease.
After diagnosis, Karen took it upon herself to reach out to others with the disease, offering encouragement, love, information, and energy. She became, for lack of a better word, a tireless advocate for those afflicted with the disease and the oncologists struggling to improve diagnosis and treatment. None of that description really does her justice.
During the memorial service yesterday, her husband described the countless hours she spent answering emails, talking on the phone, answering messages posted on internet boards, and networking with doctors and fellow patients. Even when she felt terrible, she did not waste time feeling sorry for herself. There were jokes and anecdotes to tell. Her shoulder and her ear were always available to whoever needed them. One oncologist joked that she knew more about the disease than he did. What she did understand better than any of the oncologists was what it meant to fight the disease as a patient and her mission was make sure other patients had as much ammunition as possible.
Karen lost her fight with cancer during what should have been uneventful surgery to correct a complication of the disease. When news of her death spread across the patient support boards, Facebook, email, and telephone, hundreds of tributes from fellow patients poured in from across the globe.
The subject of religion never come in our interactions with Karen. She was focused on getting my son information about how to manage symptoms and treatment side effects. I learned she was a devout Jew (and child of a Holocaust survivor) during the memorial service. It was also during the memorial service that the subject of angels came up. Her rabbi said the following:
"In the Jewish tradition, angels are not mystical beings with wings. They are God's messengers and appear in human form. They walk among us and tell us what we need to hear. I firmly believe that Karen was an angel."Looking around at the overflowing crowd at her memorial service, filled with people from her family, congregation, and the neuroendocrine cancer community, it is hard to argue with that depiction.
After the service in the chapel, the crowd walked with her casket to the grave site. As we walked, clouds started to fill the sky. As we recited the mourner's prayer (kaddish), it started to rain. The raindrops were huge and the wind swirled leaves around us. Then the sun broke through the clouds as we each took turns throwing three shovels of dirt into her grave. Maybe it was all a coincidence, but it did not feel like it. It felt like angels joined the mourner's prayer and the sun sparkled in our tears as we said our final good-byes to her body.
I don't know what angels are, but Karen turned her disease into a blessing for others, including my son. For that I am thankful.
Her husband closed his tribute to the love of his life with this:
"Go walk with the angels, Karen. Your work here is finished."Amen.
Update: After I posted this, I came across a tribute to Karen from another person fighting neuroendocrine cancer. It is consistent with the possibility that Karen was indeed an angel.
A Benevolent Force provided three glorious days without pain so Karen could enjoy her birthday party. It had been postponed because of her abdominal pain but last month, with 64 friends and relatives, a DJ, music and a fresh-waxed dance floor Karen and Ken wowed the crowd by performing the stationary Cha-Cha-Cha. Everyone cheered in amazement and begged for lessons on how to do the dance.
There are many, many more things Karen would want you to know. She was a thoroughly good person. She knew how to have fun yet she championed many causes: pro-woman; pro-people of color; pro-self advocacy. Karen was proud to be descended from Holocaust survivors and of her Jewish heritage. If she liked you, she never held back. You knew you were liked. She liked just about everyone except those few doctors who are condescending or aloof.
Saying Good-bye
Friends and family gathered at a small cemetery chapel today (Oct. 16, 2012) for a traditional service. Then the Rabbi walked with Karen and the group to her graveside where, in the Jewish tradition, each person tossed a bit of earth down on her coffin. Of course, Karen was not there. A little bit of her sweet soul was settling into every heart.Let's see. Everyone described Karen as a person that knew how to love. She gave hope and comfort to many people suffering from a rare and difficult to treat form of cancer. God gave her a last hurrah and called her home surrounded by loved ones. She was carried to her final resting place by a crowd of people touched by her presence. Her absence will be felt long after her death.
I don't know what an angel is, but Karen could probably pass for one. She will be missed.
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