Perspective

"It is very important that we not assume the perspectives of mortality in making the decisions that bear on eternity!"       Neal Maxwell

The same event can be viewed and interpreted from polar opposites.  It's all in our perspective.  We don't see the whole picture.  God does.  Searching his revealed word to understand who we are, why we are here and what comes next helps me see the events of mortal living in context of eternity.  It shapes my perspective.

My father is dying from lung cancer.  The diagnosis of cancer was slow in coming and by the time it was verified, the cancer had was wrapped around the aorta, tangled with nerve and vascular tissue and had spread to two lymph nodes.  It is one of a few cancers that some how causes an autoimmune response that attacks the brain resulting in sudden onset of dementia.  The oncologist solemnly laid out our options- aggressive chemo and radiation which may possibly prolong his life at the sacrifice of the quality of that life OR we could allow the disease to run its course, preserving the quality and comfort of the remaining months as far as possible.  With my father’s frailty, blindness and dementia, the oncologist suggested the only real option was to call hospice to help us all through this process.  Dad had drawn up a living will years before specifying his wishes to avoid medical intervention to preserve life at the expense of the quality of that life.   We talked with other family members and decided to let the cancer run its course.  We felt this was the respectful and compassionate thing to do.  

That was almost three months ago. There have been inquiries about his health and ‘treatment.’    There are many mixed emotions, not the least of which is the feeling that we should be DOING something.  Something other than waiting for him to die.  Did we make the right decision?   Each time I help him settle near the gas fireplace in his recliner and adjust the electric blanket we bought to keep him warm, I realize how cozy and serene his surroundings are.  We ARE doing something.  We are helping him to live comfortably with his familiar chair, radio and “talking books.”  His appetite has actually increased and we keep his favorite foods on hand.  He wants cookies and chocolate candy-  things he had no desire for as a young man- so we bake fresh cookies often.  Once in awhile he wants to go out to MacDonalds or Taco Bell.  One unusually warm February afternoon we took him outside for a walk in the wheelchair. We eventually did call hospice and they send a nurse to check on him twice a week and supplies, such as oxygen, the wheelchair and shower chair, are delivered to the house along with all of his medications.  He HATES waiting rooms and it has been such a blessing to have the medical needs addressed right at home. 

It is a simple existence but it is free from pain, needles, chemo-caused nausea and radiation burns.  He is free from the smells and discomforts of a hospital room and can doze in his favorite chair with our daughter’s small dog on his lap.  He sleeps next to my mother at night in a soft, warm bed, gets up when he is ready and goes to bed when he is tired.  Grandchildren and Great-grandchildren stop in for visits and ask questions about the ‘old days’- a subject upon which he can still talk clearly.  Love is expressed and understood. 

Neal Maxwell died of cancer.  He once remarked, “It is very important that we not assume the perspectives of mortality in making the decisions that bear on eternity!  We need the perspectives of the gospel to make decisions in the context of eternity.”   God does not intend for our mortal experience to last forever.  It is time of learning, growing, testing.  If the final test is cancer, it is simply the last mortal step before returning to God and home.  As we minister to my father during his last difficult trial, we feel not despair but peace.  We feel the veil between heaven and earth grow thinner; and the spirit of the Lord whispers, “All is Well.”