Beth

A friend of mine died today. Beth is her name. Turns out she had Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, which is a fast-growing cancer of the blood and bone marrow. She went to the doctor a week ago yesterday because she was feeling run-down and having trouble breathing. They ran some blood work but apparently didn’t find anything too alarming because they sent her home with just some antibiotics. She went to the ER on Saturday because she was having sharp pains in her chest. They admitted her with pneumonia and by the time they figured out she had Leukemia, she was on a ventilator. That was Tuesday, and she died just after noon today.

It seems odd to talk about someone who has only been dead a few hours in the past tense. But I guess that’s what you are supposed to do.

You know when people say, “He would give you the shirt off his back”? Beth was like that. Except for her gender, of course.

Beth and I had to share an office for a year or so a few years back. We spent 40+ hours a week together in a 12X12 space. Unfortunately, she had the misfortune to be stuck in the same room with me while several doctors gave me lots of drugs for my newly diagnosed “mental illness”. Her work environment was difficult at best. For several months I was either crying or chatting her ear off. And she handled it with grace, understanding and compassion.

The thing about Beth and I-she had her own logic system and it was not one you could find evidence of in a philosophy textbook. There were so many times I would try to explain something to her, and it was just like I was speaking a foreign language. She was very smart, but she just wasn’t logical if you know what I mean. If you were going to get her to see your point of view, you had to take an indirect, circuitous route. I’m not very good at that, and I understand that is my own shortcoming. There is a reason I am not a teacher. I can explain things one way, and if you don’t get it, I can try one other way, but after that, I’m done.

So we weren’t the best of friends, but I have always considered her my friend. Even though we didn’t see eye-to-eye on too much, we had the single-mom thing in common, and the abusive marriage thing in common, and the search for the meaning in life in common. She gave me a copy of “The Purpose-Driven Life” during one of my really low points, and that gesture meant a lot to me. I still have it and I looked at the inscription today. It says, “To Sam. From Beth. Enjoy.” And she drew a smiley face.

Anyway, I was just thinking about Beth a few days ago. She got a job within our agency that lots of people applied for, and I was thinking that it was about time that something good happened to her and for her. I was talking to my daughter about how catty some women can be, and how sometimes females aren’t happy for other females when something good happens to them, and I was thinking how happy I was for Beth that something good finally did happen to her.

I feel guilty, too. I feel guilty because she sent an email a few weeks ago asking people to pray for her daughter because her daughter had just gotten some really bad news at the doctor. She was really cryptic, but she told a mutual friend what the issue was. Our friend didn’t tell me what was going on at the time, but later she did tell me things weren’t near as bad as they had thought, and everything was going to be okay. It turns out her daughter was diagnosed with Human Papillomavirus, or HPV. Beth thought her daughter had HIV, and totally freaked out. It was SO like Beth to assume the worst and jump to conclusions without making sure she knew what her daughter really had. Beth left work, jumped a plane, flew home and scared her friends shitless before she got down to the bottom of the misunderstanding. Her daughter couldn’t even understand why her mother was so upset until she figured it out later. Anyway, I feel guilty because I was glad I wasn’t in on the whole prayer circle thing, because I know I would have been skeptical and made her feel stupid for jumping the gun. And I feel guilty because she thought I wasn’t a good enough friend to include in her prayer circle. And she was right. I will never know the truth now, but I hope that she didn’t include me because she knew I was an atheist, not because she didn’t consider me someone who cared about her.

I used to think most people were good at heart. I don’t think that anymore. I have run across few people who are honest and true and mean well in all things that they do. She was one of them. And she had so much to live for, and so much love inside of her, and I would have gladly traded places with her if I could. Too bad things don’t work that way.

I guess the best I can do is to try not to be a snob when I think people are illogical. If that’s the legacy she leaves me, it won’t be a friendship wasted.

Samantha, don't beat yourself or the human race up too much.

The first thing that occurred to me is, "How the hell can someone have a fatal disease and not know it until it kills them?"

That is simply incredible.

I'm 47 years old, been around the world and seen some pretty bad shit, and somehow have made it this far still believing people are mostly good at heart. I reinforce that belief by doing the Random Acts of Kindness thing. When you do something like that, the good people come out of the woodwork.

As for the confusion over her daughter, it was her daughter. There is nothing on Earth more frightening than when your kid is sick. And if you believe your kid is going to die, well, you simply wish it was you who was going to die instead. Take me, God.

I would bet that is exactly what she prayed to God about, too.

Looks like she got her wish.

Not saying that's how it went down. Just saying that she sounds like she was a decent woman that bad things happened to and that is terribly sad. I'm sorry for you, too, that you feel things between you and her were unresolved. That's a terrible feeling to carry around. Please don't carry it too long.

That's what grief is. "I WASN'T DONE WITH YOU!"

Well Luke, since I would count you among the people I think are honest and true and mean well in all things they do, I am not surprised that you think people are basically good at heart. I am glad there are people who do believe that, otherwise this world would be even more intolerable.

It is hard to believe that she had a fatal disease and didn't know it until it killed her, but that's what happened.

I don't have all the facts because I haven't spoken with her mother, but I wonder if the doctor she went to was the same doctor she used to go to. Her mother posted on her website that the doctor gave her some antibiotics and a suggestion that she take some vitamins. Her regular doctor was a DO, not an MD, and I used to take my kids to him. He often suggested that a lack of certain vitamins or minerals were the cause of certain maladies, and rather than just prescribing meds to treat the symptoms, he would advise us to add those vitamins and minerals etc. to our diets. I wonder if he simply missed something. It's hard to fathom that within a week of her death her bloodwork would not have shown something terribly amiss. From what I've read, a basic CBC would have had red flags all over the place.

Luckily the confusion over her daughter's illness was short-lived. I am certain Beth knew that even if her daughter was HIV positive, she understood that people with HIV can live a long, full life, so I don't think in her mind she traded her life for that of her daughter's.

Thank you for responding, Luke. I am grateful that I have this outlet to work through my feelings and I feel better having done so. You make a difference in a lot of people's lives IRL, but you make a difference in the lives of people you don't even know, too.

Sam, I'm very sorry to learn of your friend and co-worker's sudden death. It sounds like it all came on so suddenly that no one, including you, really had a chance to prepare themselves mentally. You are dealing with the shock of it all, and the loss it means and will continue to mean to you. Guilt shouldn't be any part of the calculus, but we are only human and too often let it be. Grief is what Luke says it is. It is about your loss and your regrets, not hers. Let it play out naturally, but try not to dwell on it. There's nothing you can do now. Don't let it sap your strength or well being. Life is too short as it is. Beating yourself up over things you can do nothing about now is pointless and counterproductive. It steals time and energy from yourself and it doesn't have to.

Luke is a wise man, and he comes by his wisdom honestly, having gotten so much of it from experience, which so often comes from learning from one's own fuck ups. His advice not to beat yourself up has a special ring of genuineness to it, as I know (and you probably do too) from reading so many of his posts that he too has spent too much of his life beating himself up over things he did or didn't do and regrets, especially when it comes to his relationship with his deceased brother. I think he gets it now that it's OK. He and his brother were blessed with the opportunity at the last moment to tell each other they loved each other, and they meant it and knew it. They had their own personal redemptions when it mattered most.

It sounds like you were there for Beth when she needed you too, regardless of how recently it was. I'll bet you and your friendship meant more to her than your posts seem to indicate you think you did. I'm sure her life was richer for having known you, just as yours is for having known her.

Thanks for sharing. Feel better soon, and keep those warm thoughts and memories of her.

CH

CH, I think you and Luke are both very wise. And compassionate. Thank you.

Beth had many, many friends, and even though I know I could have been a better friend to her, I doubt it was something she even noticed, so that’s good.

Sometimes looking back can make you realize the things you did wrong, but it can go the other way, too. Beth and I had lunch with a few co-workers less than a month ago, and our mutual friend suggested that I take that opportunity to get her to tell me what was going on with her daughter. But Beth was the type of person who did not find it cathartic to discuss her problems; it just made her more upset. So instead of dragging it out of her that she thought her daughter had HIV (she had not realized her mistake yet), I babbled on and on about a supervisor that I was having problems with. A few days later, when our friend told me her daughter just had HPV, I was really glad that I didn’t make her tell me what was going on. I realized that if she wanted me to know, she would have told me, and if she wanted to spend her lunch hour reliving her ordeal, she would have done so. But instead, the last time I saw Beth we laughed and joked and complained about work and had a really good time.

I can also take comfort in the fact that I told her on several occasions how grateful I was for how she handled things when we were stuck in the same office together. She knew I appreciated her. So I did some things right, too. Thanks for making me realize that, you guys.