Greatness in little things

When you reconcile that life will reach its whole, there are no longer such a thing as a little thing.

Last Friday, the Brystkraft FB-group lit
candles for Anja in a little church in
Kleinkirchheim on their group trip
to Austria. (Photo: Lill Thommesen)

Anja had a waken evening. We talked about little things. Read the comments from the blog and Facebook, and she tells a little about who is who and what. It is touching how many lights are lit for her out there, and we drown in hearts and hugs.

It is not only easy to give Anja a hug. Not from so many people. And not so big hugs as many write about. She wants to be scratched on the shoulders and legs. See, that is something no one writes about!

Today Anja stopped eating solid food. She tried a little tomato soup, very little. But she ate a popsicle. But it had to be peeled of its frozen chocolate topping first.

Yesterday the man was commanded to drop by at home. Hannah has become a big girl, and mom came to think of a nice gold ring Hannah had to get right away, a small one that may suit already.

Mother had put it on the ring finger of her only daughter. Maybe it does not sit properly yet. But on the middle finger, thought Hannah loud. There it fit well.

On the whole, our oldest child has become a lot more responsible and considerate in recent weeks, especially in recent days. Mature. Much use of voice, but suddenly easier to get response when we ask her to save her voice and our ears.

And those that used to be cat and dog, have been sister and brother to a greater extent. It's good to hear for a mother who worries about what will happen when she can not be there and speak up.

It is less than two years between the girl and our oldest boy. He is the quiet and contemplative type. He has the ability to be happy and joking between serious moments.

He is of the opinion that he will not deal with the inevitable. His focus is that there must be a way out, a solution. He is angry, but keeps his integrity. He just wants to be heard, and then he moves on.

Now it was time for him to come home, he found out. With the help of our wonderful neighbors it was possible too. He came from a tent camp on the other side of the country to a makeshift dormitory at the hospital. He needs a day or two at home to let reconciliation sink in.

And Anja still takes each day as it comes, so she almost always ends a blog post. It has no other meaning now, even though everything is all about medicine, relief, sleeping, long-long dozes, obvious steps closer to a blessed end.

It is not for nothing the priest reads at the baptism and burial, "God bless your coming in and your going out." The going out is already blessed. One lives as well as a lifetime before one can come to terms with the blessing. And when it comes, then Anja takes it aswell.

A daze

The world stops for a while as a life finds its going out.

Anja is still with us. We thought she was leaving Thursday night when she felt a pressure in the chest and had trouble breathing. She was frightened, but was awake and full of humor when the kids came.

The children were supposed to sleep at home that night, but the two oldest were allowed to choose. They wanted to be with their mom.

The doctors increased the amount of anesthetic and sedative drugs, and Anja were stable. It must be this thing called "critical but stable". She dozes more and more, talks less and sleeps a lot.

When Anja decided to ask for admission to Hospice Lovisenberg, she had seizures with cramps in her face and in her good arm. She was fully conscious and was able to keep up with what happened and everything that was said around her, but had no control over herself. She also had fits of laughter.

The doctors here have not seen such seizures before, but thought it was most comparable with epilepsy. Stesolid stopped the cramps, and now Anja misses her laugh attacks. "No, the entertainment here is pretty bad," she said laconically.

The waking moments with clear voice becomes rarer and shorter. We learn to understand what she says in her daze. It is mostly short messages about what she needs help with, but also practical reminders on agreements.

Today Anja "got up" and laid down in the armchair. One can Clearly see her liver quits working. Now she must also have the strongest medicines for itching. While she has eaten some watermelon and dinner the past few days, the nausea got the upper hand today.

Now, at noon, she also started hearing "plopping" noises inside her head. It irritates her cruelly. She initially thought it was messages on her iPad while I thought it was my phone. Or one of the others, it is more than enough phones, iPads and iPods here. But no one had new messages.

It's been a while since Anja was active on Facebook. She tries to read but have to give up pretty quickly. Says she can not focus. That is understandable. But she does not complain. I give her summaries of comments on our Facebooks, the emails, the blog and my twitter.

Old «Porkka» has seen its last repairs.

I must tell you about what moves her most these days: The last time she was admitted here, the ice machine was broken. She sent an email to the Cancer Society where she explained how important it was for the patients here.

Wednesday came the answer: they had found a sponsor and provided 25,000 NOK for a new machine, thanked her for the initiative, and said that they had already made ​​contact with Hospice.

Yesterday they received the letter, and the head nurse came by to thank Anja that she had managed to get it. Anja cried and said she had hoped to get to see that what she wished came true.

She has managed to get done with many things.

Alleviation

Anja is back at Hospice Lovisenberg. She decided early on that this was where she would be at the end.

This time Anja got a big room. Last night our four year old slept on a mattress on the floor in her room, while her sister and mother were mostly awake. My mother, Hannah, Simen and the cousins got to sleep in the large living room.

It's called LDS Hospice Lovisenberg - Centre for relief and life assistance. Anja was admitted on Wednesday.

Now she has a PCA pump and she sleeps well when she sleeps, and is awake and clear when she does not sleep. But she sleeps and dozes off much more than before.

Anja gets a lot of care and she does not need to push her legs to the limit. She should quit walking long ago. Here she can pull the string and hands and aids are at hand.

The children and my mother are now based at our house. Because they want to. And they need to as well. But they are all wellcome at Hospice Lovisenberg.

The staff here were pleasantly surprised that all nine of us followed Anja. The children sound like kids and then some, but all they tell us is that it is as should be.

Otherwise we try to use the time as best we can. There is still life. Still time for goodbyes. Still something left of the end.

The end is near

I'm sitting in the living room on my chair. I have my family around me. All that remains now is the end.

I go in and out of life. Sometimes I get lost in a daze. While I'm away, I hear everything that is said. It is weird. Feels like an intoxication, the body is completely gone, I can not do anything, just exist. Sometimes it lasts longer, sometimes shorter. It comes more often now.

The disease is in its final stage. I hurt both mentally and physically. I can take pills for the pain, so I do not hurt. I have family here around me and get the help I need, and that is good.

But the pain in my heart no one can take away. The pain and sorrow because I have to say goodbye to everyone. All those I am fond of pain and grief that no one can understand, no one can take away.

Why! Why me.