Chapter 5

  The day had come.  It was time to welcome into this world, a new Grandbaby!  Not a single ache or pain was going to ruin this level of excitement.  On March 24th, 2015, a sweet healthy baby girl was born. Her name is Elizabeth.

   Cancer took a backseat to all the joy and happiness this new baby brought.  At least it tried to.  Laura had a fever that day, this time 101.3.  She didn’t want to tell anyone.  There was no way she was going to let cancer get in the way.  She was going to hold and love on this new baby no matter how bad she felt. 

  Laura had been keeping a secret from everyone, she had been fighting this fever for several days.  I asked her why she didn’t tell anyone.  She said, “I’m not going to worry Amanda and Jared, they need to be excited about the baby.”  Laura was starting to get nervous, her appointment for chemo was the next morning.  She texted me later after she was home from the hospital, “What am I going to do?  I can’t have chemo if I have a fever.” 

  Laura was having a hard time getting this last set of chemo in.   I could tell she was upset.  Surgery was set for May 4^th, exactly four weeks after her last chemotherapy treatment.  Laura wanted this to be over with.  She wanted to have time to enjoy the new baby.  Laura didn’t sleep that night.  She was afraid of what the Doctor would say. 

  Laura went to her appointment early that next morning, still with a fever.  She hoped and prayed overnight it would have gone away.  Lab work was drawn, the results indicated that once again her blood counts were too low.  NO CHEMO TODAY!  Disappointment set in.  Laura had just met with the surgeon the week before.  The mastectomy that was scheduled, now must be pushed off another week.  Laura had the mindset that she was almost done.  New date for surgery… May 11^th, 2015. 

The Doctor told Laura to go home and rest.  Laura got tired of hearing that word.  She was infuriated by the thought that she was doing everything right, and still couldn’t get these last chemo treatments in.  I didn’t hear from her for a couple of days, I knew she wanted to spend time with Elizabeth.  Right now, holding that baby, well that’s the best kind of medicine Laura needs.

  It was the weekend, so I thought I would check in.  I asked her, ‘How are you feeling?’  On my side of the phone, my fingers were crossed, hoping things would be better.  They were not.  Laura was wiped out again.  I didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t want to talk.  She was mad because she couldn’t go see the baby.  I asked her, ‘What’s going on?’  She said, “I can’t even get off the couch, I have absolutely no energy. I feel like I have been run over by a truck!  Add to that, my heart is racing again.  ‘Oh Laura, what can I say? I am so sorry.’  “All I want is one good weekend to spend with my family.  Is that too much to ask?”  Weekends were never good for Laura.  Those were the days she hit the bottom.

  Laura is back to not eating much.  Chemo has a way of upsetting your stomach.  I know she must be tired of me asking her all the time. But hey, she’s the one who made me promise.  Here is one of those conversations.  Deb: “Did you eat today?” Laura: “Yes I ate.  Did YOU eat??”

 I had to laugh!  I told her, “Shut It! You really are a pain in the ass.”  Laura responded back with her typical, “Lol” then ended with “Thanks, love you”.  Our conversation couldn’t end just yet.  Because you know me, I couldn’t’ let this go.  “Well… What did you eat? Toast??” As silly of a question as you think this would be, the truth is, toast was many times her dinner.  Laura texted back, “No! I had peanut butter and jelly.”  You see… This is the point where this relationship has gotten to.  I Ask- Laura complains.  I Push- and she always answers.   You could say… This is just how this friendship rolls.

  Like I have said earlier, Laura is always giving back.  Wouldn’t you know, Laura had another idea.  You would think by now, I would see that light bulb go off above her head.  I should have expected this was coming. 

  Since the kids had a ‘Team Stagg’ day at school and donated money from the sale of the shirts.  Laura wanted to do something special for them.  At first, I thought it was just for the basketball team, but found out later she wanted to do it for the ENTIRE student body.  I am thanking God right now, that this school is located in a very small town.  Laura wanted to show her appreciation for all the love and support they have given to her and Rachel.  She thought with my help, we could make this happen.

  Laura called me and told me what she wanted to do.  Laura wanted to serve ice cream sundaes to the kids as a special treat.  At the time I said, ‘Okay, sure.’  I honestly had no idea what I had signed up for.  Let’s just say… OH BOY!  What did I get myself into??!!

  Laura contacted ‘The Belfonte Ice Cream Company’ located in downtown Kansas City.  She told them her story, and how she would like to ‘pay it forward’ to the staff and students at Lathrop High School.  She said this would be her way of saying ‘Thank You’.  The representative at Belfonte loved the idea!  They told Laura they would be happy to help. They graciously donated 10 three-gallon tubs of vanilla ice cream.  WOW!   

  Early Monday morning, I borrowed my daughter’s Grand Cherokee and we headed to Belfonte’s Distribution Center.  We took Brandi’s Jeep so we could fold the back seat down to fit in as many coolers as possible.  Once we arrived, we met with the Customer service rep. who shared her story about being a Breast Cancer Survivor.  She told us they were happy they could do this and if we need any more, please give her a call.  We drove to the back of the building where a gentleman was waiting to meet us.  Within minutes, two men came out toting stacks of ice cream on 2-wheeled dollies.  Both men were decked out in full winter’s gear.  They filled up every cooler we had in the back and some they had to put on the floor.  These tubs of ice cream were so big that some of the lids on the coolers wouldn’t close.  I looked at Laura and said, ‘Good grief!  That’s a LOT of ice cream!’

  It was almost an hour’s drive to get to Lathrop High School.  Once we arrived, we called Rachel.  She had a couple of male students come down to help us unload.  Laura got busy decorating two long tables with white tablecloths.  She set out sprinkles, candies, whipped cream, and syrup.  Any kind of toppings you could imagine… Laura had it there.   We had to hurry because it was almost time for the first lunch bell to ring.  You would think in the time it took us to drive to Lathrop, that some of this ice cream would soften and melt.  Nope!  NOT ONE FREAKING BIT!!    That ice cream was SO HARD, scooping it was almost impossible!!  I was taking lids off every container, hoping that would help.  I said, ‘Laura, how are we going to scoop this?  This ice cream is rock hard!”  Laura laughed and said, “It will be alright.”  Oh, Good Lord, that’s her answer to EVERYTHING! 

    Laura and I thought it would be best to get a head start by having several bowls already dished out.  I look over to see Laura at her table.  I had scooped out 3 bowls compared to Laura’s 1.  ‘Seriously???’  

Before we knew it, the lunch bell was ringing.  The kids were all lining up.  The handful of bowls we had ready, were all taken.  I was trying to scoop as fast as I could, but the ice cream was so damn hard.  Thank goodness Rachel came by with two girls from her class, eager to jump in and help.  Another bell rang, and a ton more kids.   Everyone was happy to see Laura.  ‘Hi Mama Stagg!  How are you?  Thank you so much!  We all are praying for you.’

By now, I am EXHAUSTED!  I want to rest, but I can’t.  The line is getting so long.  All of a sudden, Laura was gone.  I look over to see she is no longer behind the table.  She’s off visiting with a group of girls, laughing, and chatting away

Well… isn’t that nice!! I’m busting my butt over here and she’s getting all the credit!  The line was getting longer, I could not see the end.  You got to be kidding me!  Another lunch bell is ringing??  Now my arm is numb.  I feel pain in my shoulders.  I push up my sleeves because I’m covered in sweat!  I stop what I’m doing to catch my breath, then an idea popped into my head.  I’ll let the girls do it, they are much younger.  Because right now, I- AM- BEAT!  A couple of boys in the line asked if they could help.  I quickly handed them my scoop!  Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Lord!  For saving me and my frozen fingers.

  The kids had a great time, they laughed and had fun.  Everyone enjoyed Laura’s ice cream sundaes.  I teased Laura while we were cleaning up.  I said… ‘How about next time we just give them a FREAKIN’ ICE CREAM BAR instead!’

‘Look at me Laura!  Will you stop laughing and just look at me!!’ I wore a black shirt that day, both of my arms were covered completely in Belfonte’s vanilla flavored ice cream.  Well… isn’t that just great!

  All and all, it was a good time.  Laura told me later, we served 250 students and staff.  That’s a lot of ice cream sundaes.  I believe it!  I have the blisters on my hand to prove it, and no more feeling left in my arm. 

One thing for sure, there was mutual love throughout the building that day. These kids will never forget Laura.

(And just for the record… my arm was sore for several days.  But my heart was full forever.)                                

 I did everything I could to not let Laura become too close to me.  My husband, Clint would say, “She’s sucking you in.”

  Clint is ‘my person’.  He is the one I lean on.  He has heard everything about cancer, and everything about Laura’s story.  He has been there with me through it all.  Times when I couldn’t handle the impact cancer had on me, Clint was there to pick me up.  He has consoled me, held me, and wiped away many tears.  He watched how cancer’s grip grabbed ahold of me and was quickly there to pull me back.  Clint is the one who kept me grounded.  He is the one who put that balance back into my life.    When I would ask him, ‘Why is it me?  Why am I the one Laura leans on?’  He repeatably would answer, “I know exactly why.  She needs to hear what only YOU can tell her.”  Never once has he complained about the many times my phone would go off in the middle of the night.  He would simply whisper… “Laura?”  I would say, ‘Yes.’  He would offer, “Let me know if you need to talk.”

  It’s been a few months now since we have started this journey.  Clint’s comments to me have now changed.  Before, he would always laugh and tease me about how she’s sucking me in.   Now he teases with something different…

One day after we were talking about Laura, Clint looks at me and says, “You’re letting her ‘in’.  Do you know that?  I would tell him, ‘NO! I’m Not!  Don’t even say that!  That is NOT going to happen!’  Clint and I have been married for over 35 years.  He knows everything I have been through.  He knows me better than anyone on earth.  He’s one of those people, I let ‘in’.

  ‘IN’- meant into my heart, that place that I have protected for so many years.  To understand this, you must know how I feel…

  There are a handful of people you carry with you in life.  Those that are so deep in your heart, that they become a part of you and who you are.  I have had those people in my life, and I have lost those people in my life.  A couple of the people I am talking about, were my best friends, Kevin, and Teresa.  When we were young, the three of us did everything together.  We didn’t have cell phones back then, so we would drive over to each other’s house.  We spent every single night of the week together, whether we were going to clubs, out to dinner or just hanging out.  We were SUCH GOOD, CLOSE friends.

And what time does with most friendships, we grew up and went our separate ways, married and now raising families of our own.  Kevin was the one who moved across the state.   Teresa, she stayed close to home.  Even though there were miles and years between us, there was still that unbreakable bond. 

 I lost my friend, Kevin, twenty years ago.

 Kevin and his two-year-old little boy were stopped behind a semi-tractor trailer truck on Interstate 44.  They were coming home from a weekend float trip with family and friends.  I was told the traffic was at a standstill due to some highway construction work going on up ahead.  A van with an elderly couple was stopped behind them.  Another 18-Wheeler traveling at full hi-way speed plowed into the back of both of them.  The impact pushed both vehicles underneath the first semi.  The driver of this truck fell asleep.  All four of them were killed instantly.  Kevin’s brother was following a few miles behind when all of this happened.  When he saw the Highway Patrol and traffic lined up, he took the nearest exit to the outer road.  When he approached the wreck, he saw both vehicles underneath the first semi.  He knew it was Kevin and Cody.  He saw his brother’s canoe sticking out from the beneath the truck. 

  Both Kevin and his young son were buried together.  A single closed casket because they were considered unrecognizable.  Teresa and I talked about this.  It broke our hearts.  Through tears we said, ‘We could recognize him, all we would need to do is see his hands.’ 

 Kevin left behind a wife and a 2-month old infant son.

   Kevin, 34 years old, son Cody, age 2.    

  My other friend was my very best friend.  Her name was Teresa.  We met at college and later became roommates.  We had the best time together, no matter what we did.  Teresa died three years ago in the early morning hours on New Year’s Day.  I remember that phone call well.

  Teresa suffered with Multiple Sclerosis for many years.  M S for short.  MS is an autoimmune disease that affects the brain and spinal cord (that controls the central nervous system).  Most of the time it didn’t affect her, at least she wouldn’t let on if it did.      

  Teresa was fun!  God, I loved her!  Have you ever had that one friend… that you just had the best time in your life with?  Well, that was Teresa.  We were inseparable, always laughing and having a good time.  She was that person that helped me become who I am.  Teresa was confident, she was outgoing, she was beautiful.  I admired her so much.  To me, she had it all.  The funny thing is, during one of our conversations, she told me… she was the one jealous of my life.  I never understood that.  She was the one everyone wanted to be around, and I was the simple, quiet one.      

  Years passed and life got in the way of our friendship.  We didn’t talk like we used to do.  We always thought we had ‘time’ to reconnect.  Sadly, we didn’t get that chance to.   

  The last time I saw her was at the store, she was walking with a cane.  That’s something a little hard to take in.  You don’t expect to see that on a young person, especially when you’re the same age.  We caught up with each other’s lives and the kids.  It sure was good to see her.  We talked for a few more minutes before she had to leave.  I said, ‘Let’s get together for lunch real soon.’  I watched from the window as she walked to her car, never knowing that would be the last time I would see her.  Oh God, how I wish I could rewind life, for just one more minute…

  I’m told after she was admitted to the hospital, it wasn’t long before she was in a coma.  Two weeks before she died, she told the family, “I’m so sorry I am doing this.”  The Doctor said she was full of cancer.  There wasn’t anything they could do.  Teresa was private, maybe she didn’t even know.  Many times, she blew off how she was feeling as the side effects of MS.  If she did know, she didn’t tell anyone.  I have the feeling, she didn’t.

  I went to her funeral with heaviness in my chest.  To me… we were still connected at the heart.  I went thru the line and hugged all the family, one stopped me and held me a little tighter.  He said, “Teresa kept saying… I need to call Deb.”  She needed to call me to tell me she was dying. 

Thank you, Teresa, for that message.  I will miss you.  I love you too!!

  Teresa became an Angel at age 53.

   I have lost other people that have played that role in my life.  The most important one was my mom.  It doesn’t matter how old you are when you lose your mom.  I don’t think a person is ever ready.  I was the baby, so I was spoiled.  I was also the only girl.  In a house full of boys my mom was my friend.  Yeah, I was definitely a momma’s girl.  I always teased my family that I was the favorite.  I’ll just keep on believing that I was.   

  Why is it that you think that they will live forever?  And why do they have to grow old?  My mom was 80 years old when she passed.  To me, she wasn’t that old.  She had some heart problems a few years before this.  She had open heart surgery and eventually a pacemaker put in.  I don’t think she ever fully recovered.  The last time she went into the hospital, the news took us by surprise.  The Doctor said her heart was worn out.  No wonder she was sick all the time.  She went straight to hospice care and died a week later. 

  I was 50 years old when all this happened.  All I could think of, was now I have to grow up.  I wasn’t ready to.  Losing your mom changes something inside of you, the small child in you becomes lost.  You always think you have so much time.  The truth is, before you know it time is gone.  The little girl in me, feels like my mom left me.  That’s a hard one yet, to swallow.  The adult in me knows better, it was her time.  We knew God needed her more. 

I hope to be half the person that she was.  She was so loved, caring, and always giving to others.  I don’t think a person will ever stop wanting to make their momma proud.  I sure hope I am doing that.

My mom died on Thanksgiving Day, 2011.  Yeah… what a reminder, Huh?   

  There’s one last person that I’m going to talk about, and I will try to make this story short.  This person was my mom’s best friend.  Sue was the very first person I have ever known to have cancer.  She was the first friend of ours that we lost.  She was someone I looked up to.  At times she was like my second mom.  Our families spent many summers together when I was young.  We made a lot of memories and had a lot of fun.  

 If you are wondering what kind of cancer she had.  What did she die from?’  The answer to that question is…

Breast Cancer.  Imagine that…

My mom died a week before her 81^st birthday, we had her funeral on that day.   As for Sue… I really don’t remember.  I was around age 25.  She was somewhere in her early 50’s.   

These are the reasons I had to protect myself. I didn’t want to feel that kind of hurt.  

  The more conversations I had with Laura the more I opened up and shared some of these stories. I felt it was the only way for her to relate to the ‘reasons’ of my words.  Laura was starting to understand this private side of me that I kept only to myself.  Oh yeah, she most definitely knew how Clint would tease me about saying, ‘sucking you in’.  She would laugh when I would tell her, ‘That’s not going to happen.’ 

I’m not sure if Laura knew what she was doing.  Or maybe it wasn’t Laura at all.  Maybe God was the one opening my heart and He was the one letting Laura in.

  Late one Thursday night, it happened.  As I was answering one of Laura’s texts.  I said, ‘I don’t let too many people ‘in’.  I have let you ‘in’.  Thank you for letting me get to know you and who you are.  You have grown a spot in my heart.  I don’t know how (wink), but you did.  I’m glad you are my friend.  You too… are becoming a part of who I am.’ 

  I went with Laura on her next chemo day.  Her blood counts were back up and everything checked out to be good.  Sitting in the chair next to us was a young woman.  I’m guessing she was thirty-something, maybe forty.  She was accompanied by her mother, who flew in to be with her from another state.  This young woman’s name was Christine.  She left such an impact on both Laura and me.  I don’t think either one of us will ever forget her.  We listened as she shared her story about fighting breast cancer, two years ago.   She told us about her chemotherapy and radiation treatments.  She described in detail about her radiation burns.  Christine said she was now experiencing some horrible headaches.  These headaches she said, wouldn’t go away.  After a series of tests, it was determined cancer had returned.  Showing up in her liver, lungs and in her brain.  I sat there and watched as the conversation grew between these two.  You could see a connection taking place. 

We left that day, neither one of us not knowing quite how to feel.  We didn’t speak of Christine, instead we walked quietly to our cars.  Later that night, Laura sent me a text, she couldn’t get her out of her mind.  I couldn’t either.  We talked about how she was so brave and confident.  I said to Laura, ‘She had no fear in her eyes.  Her momma did, but not her.  What an incredibly beautiful person to meet.’ 

  Laura entered in her journal, her thoughts on meeting Christine.   I read part of what she wrote… “There is no way I could go through this again 2 years from now.  Two times is enough.  This has been very hard on me.  I know there are others that are fighting every day.  I am a fighter, but at times I feel like it got me.  Your body just goes through so much.  Unless you have been through it, you could never understand.”

  Laura left the office that day feeling a little confused.  I knew to a degree, what she was talking about.  I felt it from Christine too. 

I crawled into bed that night, I was in tears.  It seems like every time I have gone with Laura for her treatments, I end up in tears.  Caregivers and friends have a hard time too.  

  I remember the first time I went with Laura.  It was overwhelming.  Sitting in the waiting room were people of all ages.  Each one walking up to the receptionist desk, getting their wristband for treatment.  I got there a few minutes before Laura arrived.  I watched every person that walked thru that door.  There was an older man who could barely walk and then a middle-aged woman with her head wrapped in a colorful scarf.  Sitting next to me was a young man in his twenties.  I thought for sure he was a family member, waiting to pick up a loved one after their treatment.  He wasn’t.  They called his name, he stood up and walked thru the cancer patient door.  As he got up my eyes quickly went to his wrist.  Sure enough, he too, had on one of those wristbands.  I remember this moment taking my breath away!  There were just so many. 

  Sitting with Laura where they administer chemo, you can’t help but look at the faces of others.  Some, it was their first time, nervous and scared.  Others, sitting alone with their eyes closed, as the chemo entered their bodies.  I saw faces of sadness and eyes full of fear.  As you scan the room, you look back at your friend sitting in that chemo chair.  You obtain a new level of love for them.  You see courage and what truly defines strength.  You leave that place with a piece of your heart changed in a way you’ve never felt before.   

  The last couple of times I have gone with Laura, I see a little bit of Christine in her eyes.  Christine didn’t have any fear in hers.   Neither does Laura.