My aunt was a nurse. She took care of other people for 30+ years until she was diagnosed with emphysema. (Yes, she smoked, and I'll talk about that later.) Her prognosis was bad--she was only expected to live for two years. She survived for nine years. Her doctor said she was worn out and she underwent some inpatient treatment at a local hospital. When she was released just recently she said she felt rejuvenated.
My aunt was denied addition to a transplant list because she didn't have the financial resources to pay her share of costs for continuing care (anti-rejection drugs and such). She went a couple of times to Ohio State University Hospital and at one time her hopes were high. I understand that except for money, she was a good candidate. I don't understand all the ins and outs of determine how and when a person is put on a transplant list. I certainly never discussed finances with her--this is something my family just generally doesn't do. But she did discuss all of this a bit with my Mom. It made my Mom angry. My Mom said today that she thinks my aunt died because she was poor.
My aunt's church tried to raise necessary funds with a benefit dinner but it was nowhere near enough. So she kept on, never lost hope, never shared a moment of sorrow. She pushed a little cart with an oxygen bottle everywhere she went. She got tired, got short of breath, sat down and rested until she could move again. She gave herself breathing treatments and took steroids that puffed her up to nearly twice her normal size. It didn't get her down--she went out and bought new clothes, had some handed down.
My aunt volunteered at the local Obama campaign headquarters. She made phone calls, stuffed envelopes, did anything that didn't require a lot of physical activity. It made her tired anyway. She proudly wore a Obama campaign button on her clothes.
My aunt found faith in God and Jesus. I often wondered if this is what kept her from being angry at her fate, angry at our health care system. Sometimes she annoyed us a little with her love of Jesus. It doesn't seem to matter much right now.
My aunt lived long enough to see her first grandchild. I feel thankful for that. I feel thankful that she died quickly this morning--she passed while sitting on her sofa, carrying on a conversation with the neighbor who had come over to help give her a morning breathing treatment.
My aunt's body is still at the hospital right now. She's going to be cremated, but it will have to wait a bit.
My aunt's last act is to give people a gift she was denied.
She was an organ donor.