Just One Month - the full story

The one thing I definitely did not want to do was to produce a ‘tribute’ or ‘in memoriam’ page for Barb.

From the many emails and phone calls that I received, it’s apparent that not everyone is aware of what happened, so I would like to take this opportunity to fill you in.

Barb was first struck with breast cancer in April 2011. Thank G-d, she emerged from the year of chemotherapy and radiotherapy in relative good health and enjoyed another 3 good, healthy, happy, exquisite years with her family. The last 2 ¼ years were spent in Israel – we moved to Ramat Beit Shemesh, and I can say, unhesitatingly, that these were the very best years of our lives so far.

Barb looked after herself: she ate properly, exercised almost every day and had her regular 6-monthly check-ups.

About a month after her last check up she started to feel some pain in the area where she’d previously had the cancer but this passed quickly. It was followed around a month later by a similar pain on the other side and this also went away after a couple of weeks. Finally, about 2 ½ months ago, she started to experience back ache and took herself to an osteopath and then a chiropractor, but it didn’t help at all. Finally, just before Succot she saw something in her skin, went to her GP who then sent her “as a precaution” for a mammogram during Succot. Nobody was expecting it to be anything significant.

While I was davening for her in the waiting room of the hospital I received a text from her that simply said, “It doesn’t look good. :(” We left the Women’s Health department and immediately fell on each other weeping. Barb said, “I don’t want to die. I have so many things I want to do”.

I think that was the last time that we embraced...

Barb was achey and a bit weak at that point. We were travelling to the US for our son’s wedding on the 11 October and were planning to stay for 10 days but following a meeting with the oncologist, she asked us to cut the trip short and come back on 19 October to begin chemotherapy two days later.  The oncologist also said Barb’s blood test showed that the liver seemed to have been infected.  There was a serious question as to whether we would be able to fly to the wedding at all but since there was nothing to be done until a PET CT scan was carried out, the oncologist said we could go.

The question of whether or what to tell anybody became an immediate issue. We didn't want to cast a pall over the forthcoming simcha, but it would be obvious that something was going on and that might cause even more of a problem. Also, we needed the prayers of as many people as possible, first and foremost those of the bride and the groom since the prayers said under the chupa are the most powerful all. It was decided to tell the kids that Barb was ill again but not to tell them that it was different and more aggressive than last time. We also decided to tell immediate family in the US as well as our future in-laws so that the necessary assistance for Barb could be arranged in good time.

The scan was hurriedly scheduled for 12:30 on 11 October and our flight to Milwaukee was scheduled for 11:30, later that night. After the scan, our very close friends took us out for a late lunch at a local restaurant. Barb walked from the car to our table and then walked back to the car after the meal. But by the time we arrived at the airport at 8:00 she was in a wheelchair.

Both of the two flights to Milwaukee were terribly difficult for Barb since she was in a lot of pain whenever she was sitting in an upright position. I had tried to upgrade to Business Class by purchasing her a seat but none were available. When I mentioned that my wife was unwell, we were almost ejected from the flight since, as the chief steward said, “We are cabin crew, not nursemaids”. So, we bluffed the steward that Barb was simply exhausted from all the wedding preparations and we got away with it.

When we arrived in Milwaukee, a wheelchair was on hand to take us to the car and from there to the home where we would be staying.

We arrived on Monday morning and Barb went straight to bed and stayed there till the day of the wedding, Wednesday. From the house she went to the hotel (the venue) and changed into her gown.  I didn’t see her that day until we met up for the pre-nuptial photos: she stood when she had to and sat whenever she could. She looked radiant and showed no sign of pain or discomfort, just a lack of strength.

Because she didn’t have the strength to walk the 200 metres to the chosson’s room for the tanaim, the men all came to the women’s room and the tanaim, with the breaking of the plate, were conducted there. Again, she looked stunning.

Finally, when the moment came, we walked our son, Aaron, down the aisle to the chupa. Barb walked the 100 metres proud and tall. When the kallah arrived she then accompanied her and her mother and circled  Aaron a full seven times. She sat through some of the ceremony under the chupa and stood for the main parts and she was gently swaying to the music in what could only be described as spiritual bliss. In retrospect, I wonder if she was more part of Heaven than Earth at that point. And I wonder if she had any idea how bad things were?

After the ceremony, we walked – with great effort on her part – back to the chosson’s room for the post nuptial photos, followed by another walk to the reception where, I am told, Barb fulfilled her wish of dancing with the kallah. She stayed for a bit to see our kids entertain the chosson and kallah... at which point she was finished. She went back to her room in the hotel and all but collapsed into bed.

Barb had been unable to eat anything since we left Israel. She was sipping smoothies and nibbling at a banana here and there but she was getting weaker by the hour. On Thursday, we took her to an emergency doctor as it was thought that she was suffering from pneumonia... if only! The doctor linked what was happening to the cancer.

Friday night, her condition worsened and she was in terrible pain. Thank G-d, after taking pain killers, it subsided enough to allow her to sleep and on Shabbat morning she greeted me with a big smile, saying that, thank G-d, she was feeling a bit better. However, when I returned from shul I was told that she and our daughter, Eytana, had taken a taxi to the local hospital (a couple of blocks away), St Joseph's, as she had started to cough up some blood.

I found her in ER and, again, thank G-d, she looked a lot better and they were happy to discharge her. I requested a letter from the doctor saying that, in his opinion, Barb was ‘fit to fly’ the next day and he kindly agreed.

Sunday found Barb getting weaker and weaker. She looked emaciated and we did not know whether we would make it on to the plane or not because she was in so much pain. Thank G-d, for the second leg of our flight from Newark to Tel Aviv, I had managed to buy Business Class seats and that, basically, saved her. She spent the whole flight lying down and I was continually nursing her with sips of water and smoothies. I had been keeping in touch with our GP in Israel and she had warned me not to request a medivac until we were no more than 1 hour away from landing. Anymore than that and we could have found ourselves being put down in another country.

Barb was evacuated from the plane in a wheelchair at 4:15 p.m. and a friend picked us up and drove us to ‘our’ hospital – Shaarei Zedek Medical Centre in Jerusalem. By 6:30 p.m. she was on a drip in the ER and within a short while was beginning to get some strength back. Once she was ‘settled’ in, I returned to our apartment in Beit Shemesh, sadly entering alone. It wasn’t the homecoming experience that I had been expecting.

I went to the hospital early the next morning and had a meeting with the oncologist. She told me, as gently as possible but in no uncertain terms, that this was not the same cancer as before. The test results showed that it was in the liver and bone marrow, was highly aggressive and that there was no cure. Barb was in a very, very bad way and even if the she stabilised and that the chemotherapy worked, she had no more than 12 – 18 months. I shook my head in disbelief and cried. The decision was made not to tell Barb. (The law in Israel is that doctors are only legally obliged to tell the patient if they are asked.)

Barb had her first chemo on the Tuesday and the second a week later. Thank G-d, she didn’t have any of the nausea that she experienced 4 years ago but, nevertheless, still had the fatigue. Incredibly, her blood system stabilised – a major ‘plus’ in her fight, but it was a battle, not the war itself.

Shabbat in hospital is not a pleasant experience but the amount of chessed that goes on in Israel is extraordinary – care packages, cakes, drinks, musicians (erev Shabbat). By the end of second week she was beginning to ‘pick up’ and colour was returning to her cheeks. Although incredibly weak – she barely opened her eyes – it looked as if she would come home after another week or so and recuperate between chemo sessions there.

But the Almighty decided otherwise. On Friday 30 October, just one hour before Shabbat, she suddenly took a turn for the worse and was rushed upstairs to ICU. She had a very rough Shabbat but even then, there was no indication that this was no more than a temporary setback from which she could recover.

At the end of Shabbat I kissed her goodnight, told her I would be back in the morning and went home. I was planning to return at 10:00 the next morning, but I received a text from Eytana at 7:00 to come in as soon as possible. I left almost right away and arrived at her bedside to find her sedated and on a respirator. She had stopped breathing twice and had to be resuscitated. From then it was a slow decline till 00:30 on Monday morning when she passed away in our presence - of all her children and their spouses, exactly one month since the diagnosis.

It’s G-d’s Will: we accept it.