Her name was Brandi Nicole Stanley.
Please remember her. She lost her battle with cancer the evening of Memorial Day, last Monday. I was with her, holding her hand, as I had promised. Brandi, the CelticLassie, was a survivor of childhood cancer. She was not supposed to have survived then, but her indomitable fighting spirit and stubbornness prevailed. As her older brother said, “She was too damn stubborn to die.” This time, it sneaked up on her with no warning.
She fell in her bedroom the morning of April 29, just one month ago. She thought she might have broken something, so we went to the emergency room at our small local hospital for x-rays.
The doctor transferred her immediately to the Medical Center associated with the medical school. Cancer was discovered, diagnosed as Undifferentiated Adenocarcinoma. It was already in advanced Stage IV, although she had been asymptomatic up until her fall. The bones of her pelvis were invaded and eroded by the advancing tumor, weakening it and causing it to fracture spontaneously.
The fall did not cause the fracture. The damaged bone simply split. She described the sensation as, “My leg just went away.”
Undifferentiated Adenocarcinoma is one of the most rapidly growing of all cancers. A disease that is not very responsive to chemotherapy or radiation therapy. Surgery was out of the question because it had metastasized to multiple organs. That is what Stage IV means.
Her brother and I had to tell her. As an EMS student, she knew what the diagnosis meant. She simply asked the oncologist how much time she had. Then she cried.
This young woman, so full of life and laughter, was handed a death sentence at 26. As a survivor of childhood cancer, she knew the value of life. She, and we, tried to cram as many adventures into her life as possible. She was a musician, a horsewoman, correctional officer, adventurer, student pilot, crack shot with rifle and pistol, animal lover, and loved to travel. She also grew orchids. She hoped one day to be able to see a Ghost Orchid, but never got the chance.
She had been a student of Wing Chun Kung Fu, and planned to enroll in Krav Maga classes this summer. She also loved cooking, especially Cajun or Tex-Mex style. Joy of Fishes was impressed by her collection of spices, writing about them in a diary.
She left law enforcement and corrections for health care. Last year she enrolled in the EMT/Paramedic program at a local college. Truly, a critter person, no matter if the critter had two or four legs. We often said she ‘picked up strays’. The poor, sick, unfortunate and handicapped had a friend and advocate in Brandi. Her older brother wrote a message and posted it on his message boards. What he wrote is blockquoted below.
My younger sister, Brandi, passed away [the evening of Memorial Day, May 25, 2015] after an all-too-brief struggle with cancer. She was just 26 years old. She had cancer as a baby, and kicked it's ass, but it waited 26 years and sneaked up on her again while she was busy planning her life. Brandi was a VERY southern girl, with an accent you could cut with a butter knife. She loved trucks, guns, sports, games, motorcycles, airplanes, horses, and a profoundly ugly Pug named Percy.
She collected strays...people, animals, whatever needed fixing or a home. She took care of everyone around her. She wanted to be a mother, but never had the chance to marry and have kids. She loved the mountains, Roan Mountain in particular, and was very proud of her Scottish heritage. She learned to play the bagpipes. She loved the Highland Games and men in kilts. She definitely had a Scottish temper. She did not suffer fools or mean people lightly, but she laughed easily and loved to have fun. She shared anything she had with everyone around her. She had just completed EMS training and was looking forward to working as a paramedic. She loved the ambulance crews, the excitement and loved helping people. She had finally found her niche. Brandi's passing has left a hole in all of us that you could drive a truck through. We already miss her terribly. This just does not seem real. In accordance with her wishes, we will be having a wake to celebrate her life; to remember her as a whole vibrant human being, rather than a funeral. She despised funerals, having attended far too many of them in her life. The family respectfully requests that anyone who would like to send flowers, gifts or arrangements, please, instead, send a contribution in remembrance of her (Brandi Nicole Stanley) to Blair Batson Children's Hospital, at the University of Mississippi Medical Center, in Jackson, Mississippi. They saved her life when she was less than two years old, and gave us the 24 extra years we were able to spend with her. Blair Batson Children's Hospital will always be very special to our family. Thank you ALL for your kind words of love, support and condolence. We thank you all very much, and we are very grateful to have such a wonderful circle of friends and family. Much love and respect from all of us, to all of you. Sincerely, - All the Stanleys, Ryans, McCulloughs, Clan Skene, and our extended family
Late Friday afternoon, we finalized plans for a Wake. It will be held Thursday evening, June 4, at the Episcopal Church she attended. She loved to go to church. Not for the sermons, but to help with the little kids in the nursery so their parents could attend services. If anyone wants to attend her Wake, please RSVP me by KosMail for details. I am not going to try to tell her life story here. She was a complex young woman, whose story deserves an entire book. A few photos showing her life are below. First time I picked her up. She grabbed me around the neck and clung to me. She also grabbed my heart and never let go.
Fifteen months old. Two days after this picture was taken, she had a second major surgery to once again debulk the tumor.
Two years old at the Tweetsie Railroad. The old Baldwin locomotive #12 is one of the few remaining pieces of rolling stock from the narrow-gauge East Tennessee & Western North Carolina Railroad (ET&WNC).
Eighth Grade school picture
Fourteen years old in the back yard.
Leading the Parade of Tartans at the Grandfather Mountain Highland Games.
Portage Glacier, Alaska.
In a Cessna 206 float plane over Cook Inlet near Anchorage, AK. Looking for a pod of Beluga whales that had been spotted a few hours earlier.
At the Alaska Fur Exchange, Anchorage. Not very PC, and she preferred her critters alive, but liked the warm furs.
She chose her friends carefully. With one of the men of whom Churchill said, "Never...have so many owed so much to so few." Well done, Sir.
With Joe Kilna Mackenzie, who wrote the haunting lament, Sgt. Mackenzie, used in the movie We Were Soldiers. Leader of the Scottish drum and pipe group Clann an Drumma.
Fun on the airport ramp.
More fun on the ramp. Diamond DA-20 Katana. Ready to go. Typical.
1942 Stearman
Officer Brandi ready to go to work in her beloved red truck.
On the Sheriff's Dept. range. Trying to teach her how to shoot a 12-gauge Remington. Didn't work out too well. I TOLD her to lean into it to minimize the recoil.
Some of her favorite people were horses.
Indoor Free Flight Nationals, ETSU Minidome.
At the RC flying field. Looking into the western sky as the sun is setting.
Brandi and baby woozle, Ruger, May 17, 2015.
The pipes and drum have fallen silent.
------oooo0oooo-----
ADDNOTE: Two soliloquies by a young 26-year-old woman who knew she was dying were worthy of a diary in her own name. DKos administrators agreed, encouraging me to post them to her own Daily Kos account. Joy of Fishes transcribed her words as she spoke them. Her "Last Diary" is at the link below: I will NOT go without a fight. "...I Want To Live..."
