Pamela Catherine Howell, my mother was the best mother a woman could wish for. She was born on December 23,1945. She was lucky right from the start. Who wouldn't want a birthday so close to Christmas? Talk about extra presents!
It wasn't easy for her parents or any one during those last few years of World War II. But they made it through.
As she got older she found that she had a fondness for helping people so when she graduated in 1964 from High School she studied a few medical classes for two years. After her studies, she began working for the physically challenged at a local hospital. She always would tell me how much she would love reading books to the younger children when they didn't have the strength in their arms to hold the books themselves.
In 1967 she moved to California. In March of 1968 she gave birth to the first of my three brothers, Phil. In February of 1970 she gave birth to me second brother Peter. A toe head if there ever was one. In April 1971 she gave birth to my third and last brother, Paul. Sadly just a mere three months later she would lose her youngest son to S.I.D.S. This was truly the first of many curve balls that life would throw at her. In May of 1975 she gave birth to her only daughter, Pam. Of course that is me. I'll be the first to admit that being the baby of the family as well as the only daughter came with a lot of perks that my brothers didn't get.
My mother over came the lose of her son the best way she knew how. She got on with her life. We moved back to Michigan when I was just a year old. As the years passed my mother continued to help people in any way that she could. Don't get me wrong she was never rich money wise but her smile and her laugh were worth a million bucks to anyone on the receiving end of either.
She became a grandmother for the first time in October of 1989. A beautiful baby girl named Sarah, my brother Peter's oldest daughter. Oh how she loved her chubby cheeked grand baby! In December of 1990 life once again threw another curve ball. She would stand by her son's side as he suffered the same difficult loss that she did 19 years earlier. His beautiful second daughter passing away before her gentle life ever had the chance to to really begin.
I remember her telling me once after my niece passed away that helping my brother get through his grief was not only one of the hardest things she had ever had to do in her life but it was also one of the most memorable. Why? Because it brought them closer. I will never understand or feel how either my mother or my brother felt as I have never lost a child. Nor do I think I could cope with it.
From 1989 to 2002 she was to be blessed with a total of nine grandchildren between my brother and I. In 2014 she was blessed again with two great-grandchildren.
In 2011 she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Esophageal Cancer. It took the whole family by surprise. She continue to work as a cashier down at our local gas station until her chemo treatments became too much for her to handle. She took early retirement in late 2011.
Esophageal Cancer is one of the worst types of cancer to deal with because of the area in which it is located. Most people diagnosed with it usually only live six months to a year. Not my mom, no sir! She kicked that cancers butt straight into remission after two rounds of chemo and radiation. She was one tough cookie through it all. Even with having to have a feeding tube placed directly into her stomach so that she could get nutrients during the first part of her chemo. The tumor had started to block off her esophagus going into her stomach so she couldn't eat solid foods or have anything by mouth. Not even a drink of water to quench her thirst. If she did then she could have choked.
After the first round of chemo was complete and pinpoint radiation was complete she underwent surgery to place a flex wall stint over the tumor so that she would be able to begin a semi normal soft food diet. The stint worked wonders for a few months and then began to clog. She had worked up to eating crackers and sandwich spread from small sips of water. You can only imagine the delight and joy she felt at that accomplishment. After the first stint was removed she was still able to continue a soft food diet. This was great for her and us because she didn't have to do the tube feedings when she could eat!
The second round of chemo was the worst. It was three times stronger than the first round and really took its toll. It took all her strength just to get from one room to another. But she pulled through that with flying colors. Her last chemo treatment was in November of 2013.
In December of 2013 we once again had to take her to the hospital because she began to have that "plugged" feeling again. Sure enough, a small piece of food had lodged itself in the tumor and nothing could get past it into her stomach. She went through two "major" surgeries in less than a 36 hour period. The first one was to remove the food from the tumor, the second, to place a larger custom made stint on top of the tumor to allow food and liquid into her stomach. Both surgeries went well but they definitely had there draw backs. Because of the short amount of time between the two her system was sent into a chemical imbalance. That really scared us. We had her home from the hospital for nothing more than three hours and we were calling an ambulance because she was incoherent!
Once we got that taken care of the best we could things went well for most parts. Physical and Occupational Therapy to get her strength and mobility back, doctors appointments to keep an eye on the cancer. Normal everyday problems.
On December 30, 2014 my oldest brother and I drove mom to the hospital to have routine cataract surgery on her right eye. She had the left eye done at the beginning of the month and no problems.During the normal pre-op procedures the nurses checked her temperature and she had a slight fever. Okay so bells started going off in their heads. Might be the flu, or an infection? They weren't sure, so of course the doctor would not do surgery in fear of infection. So my brother had them transfer her to the emergency room to find out what was going on.
After numerous blood tests the news was not good. Her white blood cell count was high and her hemoglobin low. Of course anyone that has ever dealt with cancer in any form know that high white blood cell count is a sign of infection. Especially when hemoglobin is low. So, of course she was admitted to the hospital. That was on Tuesday afternoon. During the course of the next couple of days infectious disease came in, gave my mother a blood transfusion and antibiotics to kill the infection. The infection is gone! Is that the only thing? Of course not, my mother never has that good of luck. While in the hospital she developed a heart problem.So now we are dealing with cancer, an infection that likes to come and go as it pleases and to top it off, a heart problem! How much more can my mothers body take? Let alone her spirit and will to live?
Over the weekend Infectious Disease cleared her for a pace maker to be put in. So the doctor ordered a CAT scan of her chest, stomach and pelvic area on Monday. By Monday night our lives would never be the same.
First thing they tell us is that a culture of the liquid in moms feeding tube comes back positive for blood. Okay that's not good. Then comes that dreaded evening phone call to my oldest brother Phil.
"The results of the CAT scan are not good. The tumor has spread into her stomach and is causing bleeding." Okay that explains that. So, of course he contacts my brother and I.After Phil told Peter and I what was going on I was left with the awful task of making one last phone call. I had to call my grandfather, her father to let him know that he was going to outlive his only daughter. Man was that one of the worst nights of my life. Phil and I drive to the hospital to make sure she understands that this time she's not going to pull through. It was a conversation that I never thought I would be a part of. Telling my mother that she could pass away at any time. We only asked her one thing when we were through explaining it to her. Not that it really registered in her mind anyhow because she was already slipping fast. "Do you want to go home mom?"
I bet you can guess her answer. Yup, she wanted to go home. So the next day we had a meeting with all of her doctors and set up hospice to come in.She was going home. Hospice was there Tuesday evening ready to go. Everything's all set up, now we just wait until Wednesday morning for Phil to bring her home.
My niece flies in from California on Wednesday morning and arrives at my mothers house late Wednesday night. I of course take the first shift with mom. Checking her breathing, administering her meds, making her comfortable.
And BAM! Thursday morning she's gone. Just like that. I leave the house to run a small errand and I no sooner get to my apartment which is a mere five minutes away and my 18 years old daughter is calling me telling me to come back quickly. They can't wake their grandmother up. My heart drops. My daughter finding her dead in her bed. That is not what we wanted, nor hoped for. It's a mad dash for my brothers and I to get to my mothers house. We only live a few miles away from each other which in this case is good.
Let me end this little story about my mothers life by saying that she did not suffer when she went to join my grandmother in heaven. It was quick and painless. That is the way she wanted to go.
I am including a link for a fundraiser that my family has set up to cover the cost of her funeral and headstone. As I described in her story, my mothers passing was quick and sudden. No time for planning. My mother didn't have any life insurance to ease the cost. And on top of her quick passing the second source of funding that my brothers and I thought was going to be available fell through. So we are scrambling trying to pay for it.
The picture at the top of the page is my mother Pamela with her great-granddaughter Kya. The picture below is mom with her great-grandson Oliver.
http://www.gofundme.com/k0xh4k
