Stephanie here:
Shauna’s memorial service will be at 1PM on Saturday, 6 January 2007 at the Chapel of Flowers, located at 900 S. 2nd St. in San Jose, CA. Their phone number is: (408) 294-9663.
There will be a “pot-luck” reception after the service at Neptune Society, located at 798 S. 2nd St. in San Jose, CA.
Dear Shauna,
You are gone from us now. Craig called about 20 minutes ago to tell me the news. I had just been by your side 2 hours ago, stroking your arm and telling you how much I love you.
I don’t know why, but I always had the desire to hold your hand or stroke your arm. It made me feel good; safe, warm, loved and gave me a safe outlet for the physical aspect of my affection.
I can’t even imagine what this journey was like for you; how hard it was for Craig and the girls. You were amazing through it all, even during the really hard times when you thought you were going to lose your mind because of all the crap cancer was throwing your way.
Life goes on but mine will never be the same without you in it. The daily phone calls; the conversations about everything and nothing as we tried to figure out the answers to life; all gone now. That will take some getting used to.
People told me you were lucky to have a friend like me, what they didn’t understand was I thought I was the lucky one. You let me in, accepted me for who I am and loved me in a way that made me shine. You kicked me in the ass when I needed it and held my hand when weirdness came my way, and you were always good for bouncing ideas around.
In the last 14 months I have learned more about service to others then I learned in a whole lifetime before then. That’s an unexpected gift I will cherish always.
There will be more of these letters but for now I am crying a little bit and want to go lie down. Email has been sent, a blog entry written and now it’s just waiting for the last few details to be put in place.
I love you and am proud to be your friend.
Stephanie here:
Shauna left us at about 4PM PDT today.
I went to visit, sat with her and stroked her arm and talked with Craig, left at about 3. Shortly after that, she began the next part of her journey.
As information about her memorial service becomes available, I will keep you up to date.
Love,
SEA
Stephanie here:
I went by tonight to see Shauna. She is going fast. Craig said that just from this morning to this evening there was a vast difference. Her eyes no longer track and when they are open it means she is in pain and can’t rest. She is on morphine only now. Her head is angled back, mouth open and breathing laboured. She is getting really gaunt in her face.
It won’t be long before she leaves us. Craig thinks 3 days at the most and I tend to agree.
I don’t know what else to say right now. There isn’t much more to say I think. We have known Shauna would come to this for a while now. It’s simply startling in how fast it came.
Please keep Craig and Katie and Tricia in your prayers.
Stephanie here:
Shauna is still with us. She made it through Christmas and has slipped farther away. She sleeps most of the time now.
Lana (a friend of Shauna’s who is also a nurse) has been great about explaining the process to me. Things like not eating or drinking is part of it, which logically leads to dehydration. Running a saline IV to keep her hydrated would only prolong her agony.
Lana and her sister Linda, who is also a nurse, help backstop hospice care and make sure that Shauna’s had her pain meds (vicodin or morphine depending on whether she can swallow and keep it down without getting nauseous).
I have been going by after work and sitting with her so Craig can go run errands and try to take care of “normal” life stuff which is just incredibly hard right now.
The tv didn’t get installed yesterday because there was a miscommunication about the wall mount and cables. Craig has all the parts and a new appointment for installation on Tuesday. Of course, we are hoping Shauna will be around to enjoy it.
It’s hard to say how the girls are holding up. Craig is, as expected, a mess.
Lana, Linda and I are trying to work up a schedule so that we can spend the night with Shauna and allow Craig to try to get some sleep. If anyone else would like to help out, drop an email to stephanie at lunisea fullstop com.
Two things that made me giggle:
I completely missed with the bedpan the other night and we had to change Shauna’s sheets. She was incredibly patient and understanding as we rolled her from side to side while cleaning and changing. As we tucked her back in and I stroked her forehead I said, “There’s a reason I’m an historian because clearly I’m completely inept as a nurse.” She giggled a bit.
A bit later that same visit she wanted to put blistex on her lips because they are so dry. Talking is so hard for her and it was tough for me to understand whether she wanted me to do it for her or what. Finally, in a really strong voice she said, “I Do It!”
As I handed her the tube, Craig came out and asked, “Shauna, did you just say ‘I do it?’”
“Yes, she did.”
“That was Katie’s first complete sentence. ‘I do it.’”
I love her mightily and admire her strength even in these her last days with us. I will miss her more than I can say. I am sure I’m not the only one.
Hang in there with us and keep praying for a restful departure for our wonderful Shauna.
Stephanie here:
As I write this, it is Christmas Eve. Shauna is surrounded by her family, when I left the kids were clamoring to open their Christmas Eve gift.
She is beginning to sleep more and more, which is what was expected would happen. I sat in the TV room lit only by Christmas lights and the television and listened to her breathe as she slept, hoping that the pain is less when she sleeps. When she awoke, Craig was out fetching Katie and her best friend from the BART station, so it fell to me to help take care of some business with Shauna.
She is kind and awesome, and talked me through what I needed to do to make her more comfortable. What bothered me most about this was not the doing of it, but that it had to be done; Shauna is no longer in a position to take care of some of her body’s most basic functions alone and in private. It’s heartbreaking to watch and know what’s coming.
I cried today as I realized how much I am going to miss her, how much she means to me and how I would have done anything in my power to keep her from going in such a painful way. She cried too, as we talked on the phone, and told me she knew. I didn’t want to dump on her that way, because she just has enough to deal with; she doesn’t need me burbling all over her too.
There is a 46″ high def television sitting on the floor in the family room waiting to be installed on Wednesday so Shauna can watch television in complete awesomeness. Maybe she will get to watch at least one hockey game in High Def.
I want her to stay, I’m not ready to let her go. All of us feel that way. The paradox is that I’m ready for her to not be in pain anymore and that means I have let her go.
Your prayers and warm wishes continue to surround her with love, and what better way to go than knowing you are loved so much?
Stephanie here:
I am starting a new post for people to leave comments.
Stephanie here:
One day, someone had the idea that a bunch of us should get tattoos in Shauna’s honour. Here are pictures of the first 2.
Stephanie here:
Shauna went to the hospital for a followup appointment with an ENT (Ear, Nose & Throat) doc. The balloon was removed from her nose and a couple of places were chemically cauterized. She was returned home in good shape.
Taken 17 Dec, 2006. The orange Mickey blanket was a gift.
