Aunt Debbie

My Aunt Debbie has always been so compassionate, generous, and kind.  Just after Caden's diagnosis, Aunt Debbie called, saying she had some high-calorie drinks she'd like to send to us to help Caden's weight during treatment.  She knew it was hard to get much down, so with the high calories in this drink, we'd have a better shot at weight gain than most other options.  She shipped them to us that day, brooking no argument of us paying for shipping of the heavy box of liquid.

When we got the devastating news that the immunotherapy hadn't worked, Aunt Debbie sent us a check, with instructions to do something fun as a family, and if it wasn't enough, she'd send more.  We went to a movie, and also got video games at the discount game store.  We had so much fun together during the weeks that Caden didn't feel well enough during radiation.

When we got the even more devastating news that there were 4 new tumors despite radiation (September 8, 2017), she sent Caden a letter with some money in it, giving him the option to spend it as he chose, but giving him the suggestion to purchase something for his siblings, again telling him she'd send more if it wasn't enough.  That is what he did: Engraved necklaces for his sisters, engraved pocket knives for his brothers.

After Caden passed away, Aunt Debbie called, asking if I'd gotten the package she'd ordered online.  I hadn't, but it came soon after.  It's a heart-shaped necklace for me, engraved with mine and Caden's picture taken just three days before he died on one side, and a beautiful quote on the other.

Aunt Debbie's monetary gifts are just the outside gestures that can be seen.  If you ask anyone in our family, they'll tell you of all of the things she's done for them, as well as the kind words in letters, text, and phone calls, the encouragement, the love and support, and the prayers that Aunt Debbie has offered.  Aunt Debbie is a treasure.

Monday night, Aunt Debbie and Uncle Rick were sitting down to dinner.  I'm not sure of the particulars, but Tuesday morning I woke to a text from my Mom.

6:00am (paraphrasing):  Please keep Aunt Debbie in your prayers.  She was flown by life flight last night to a hospital in Montana.  She choked on some food that got lodged in her lung, which is collapsed.  They're going to do surgery to get it out.  She has been unconscious since the ordeal.

20 minutes later: She was without oxygen for 20 minutes.  Uncle Rick (a retired Chief of Police) tried everything, but it was lodged too far.  She is on life support.  There is too much brain damage, they are not going to do surgery.

6:00pm: Dad, Mom, and Grandma Fuller arrive in Montana.  They're doing another test at Midnight.  If they do not see enough activity in her brain, they'll take her off of life support and donate her organs.

Today:

7:00am: They are taking her down for a CT scan now.  We'll know more at 11:00am Mountain time.

11:55am:  Aunt Debbie has no brain waves.  They know for sure that she'll be able to donate her liver, they'll let us know which other organs she'll donate as soon as they can.

My Aunt Debbie, a beautiful soul in a beautiful body, is giving life to others today.  Her life was spent selflessly serving others, and so is her passing.  I cannot wrap my mind around this.  My Aunt Debbie choked on her dinner.  

My heart is so, so heavy today.  So heavy I can't even breathe.  I cannot image the hearts of my Grandma Fuller, my Uncle Rick, their kids, my Dad, his siblings, our families.  Surreal doesn't feel like the right word to describe the shock and devastation.  The world is losing someone very special right now, as she gives of herself one last time as a blessing for others.  Aunt Debbie is a hero among humanity.

7:00pm:  My Mom let me know that they are finalizing all of the necessary donor procedures and plan to do the surgery tomorrow.  In other parts of the nation, families are hearing the words spoken they hoped and prayed they'd one day hear, while our family is dreading what those words truly mean.