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93 pages

English

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Imagine that your child has cancer. You sit with her in the doctor's office; she's gone through multiple tests to look for a reason for puzzling symptoms and today the doctor will review the results. The doctor is kind and pragmatic, offering treatment options and encouragement, but the only word you hear is cancer. You secretly knew that it was a possibility, but you wanted to believe that if you prayed hard enough, it would not be so. How is it possible that one so young, so joyful, so healthy could have cancer? No reason, no answer; she just does. Over the years I had worked as an RN in various specialties including oncology, the operating room, and intensive care and as each area became relevant to Rachael's course of treatment, I was grateful to have that background, to be the interpreter of the unknown. I was secretly terrified that because I had also been a hospice nurse at one time, I would be called to use those skills as well. I would not let that thought in. What I came to realize however, was that Rachael would become my teacher, my guide, as we navigated together the heartbreaking maze that entailed her next nine months of treatment. Early on she said, "Why not me?" She was never bitter, never angry...only determined to be a survivor no matter what it took. She grieved each failure in private and I had to learn to respect that need for solitude. I wanted to follow her into her room, to hold her, provide comfort and make it better. I failed; this was not my five year old with a sore throat. This was my twenty-three year old with cancer. The beauty and blessings of this story are that Rachael and we, her family, were connected to a network of loving souls that willingly shared every single step with us, who lifted us when we were down, laughed and cried as we did and brought more than they will ever know to this journey. Honoring Rachael by remembering her story is an important goal, but the truth of the matter is that we must honor the human spirit, hers and ours.

Sujets

Santé et bien-être

Développement personnel

Personal Memoirs

Biography

Autobiography

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Publié par	Outskirts Press
Date de parution	24 novembre 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781977237323
Langue	English

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Duets with My Daughter Lessons in Hope, Heartbreak and the Human Spirit All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2021 Kathie Wennes Taitano v2.0
The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.
This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Outskirts Press, Inc. http://www.outskirtspress.com
ISBN: 978-1-9772-3732-3
Cover Photo © 2021 Richard Drake. All rights reserved - used with permission.
Outskirts Press and the "OP" logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
For Kalena,
that you might understand
the family you were born into
and
the gift that was and is your
Auntie Rachael.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Searching for Answers
E-mails Become Lifelines
Heartaches at Home
Imua! Onward!
R&R
Round Two
Hawai i Calls
Never Going to Give Up
Home at Last
Aloha, Rachael
And Somehow, Life Goes On
Team Rachael and the Seattle Marathon
Mahalo Nui Loa
Prologue
LOVING OUR EXTRAORDINARY Rachael and then losing her at age twenty-four made me desperate to find ways to keep her close. My first thought was to chronicle her life, especially during that profound time of illness, hope and yet ultimately, death. I understand now that writing to keep my connection to her meant bearing witness to the human spirit hers and all of those who loved her and were touched by her life. I so wanted to be perfect for Rachael. I wanted to ask all the right questions of her doctors, to take her to exactly the right centers for treatment, to anticipate every symptom and have solutions. More importantly, I wanted to be that place of solace and renewal where she could turn to in every moment of need. It was a lesson in humility to realize that no one can measure up to such a standard and as much as I wanted to, neither did I.
What I did learn is that each of us who were close to Rachael and loved her had a special role to play, and our own gifts to bring to the table. Her sweet boyfriend Cheyne, dad Michael, myself, sister Keana, brother-in-law Brandon, grandmothers, aunties and uncles, cousins, family, friends, neighbors and coworkers we all brought our unique version of love and support to Rachael. In the end there is an understanding of what an absolutely profound blessing it is to love and be loved so dearly that souls will share a heartbreaking path without hesitation, will look for hope with you, and then carry your sorrow as if it was their own.
I half jokingly said to Rachael one day, "Hey! I want to be the favorite parent!" And I meant it. How come those first phone calls went to her dad? Now I understand. She knew her dad needed her more than anyone on the planet and she was taking care of him. Rach shared a special bond with her dad in their love of the ocean, their unique sense of humor, and her ability to call him out on nonsense. They surfed and snowboarded, took salsa dancing together, and were known to have lightsaber duels on the Breckenridge porch. Rachael’s insight, empathy, and respect for human nature were without fanfare or discussion … and she knew and loved her dad. Michael’s energy and enthusiasm for life were like surfing for her: full of joy and strength.
As Rachael’s older sister, Keana brought a lifetime of sharing the same family, the inside jokes, and the simultaneous eye rolling that only doddering parental behavior can inspire. Keana was four years older and (unbeknownst to her parents) would share her ID with underaged Rach so she could get into the Breckenridge nightlife and dance. The kid loved to dance. Brandon was the gentle, loving soul who didn’t always understand the urgency of his wife’s decisions but accepted selling their home in Colorado and moving to Hawai i to be there during Rachael’s chemotherapy. His love and support were true, his heart as broken as all of ours at the end.
Aunties Madelyn, Anna Mae, and Allie brought a connection to Hawaiian spirituality and a closeness of ‘ohana that transcended genetic ties. Wennes, Northey, Sanders, Horner, Fern, Lee, Andrade, Noa, Bate, Taitano all created our family safety net. Beloved friends, extended family, neighbors, and coworkers at the Sheraton Waikiki and Mayo Clinic in Arizona each brought a unique version of strength and love that will never be forgotten. Grandpa Kaleo and Uncle Eddie had already passed away but chose to visit Rachael often in her dreams. Their presence increased toward the end of Rachael’s life and I am comforted in hoping and believing they were there to be her guides.
The relationship that requires my deepest reverence is the friendship and love between Rachael and her sweetheart, Cheyne. Cheyne was the one who shared those private moments in the quiet of the night moments of pain, sadness, and closeness with my daughter. I have told everyone who will listen of my gratitude for this young man who was never afraid to walk the cancer walk with Rachael. You are ours now, Cheyne. We will keep you as a son and a brother and someday we will celebrate the family of your future with you.
And what of me, Rachael’s mom? I was given two amazing daughters, and I have learned that despite Rachael’s death, I am still the mother of two amazing daughters. Rachael used to say, "Geez Ma, not everything has to have a deep meaning." I can’t help it. I think it does. I am a seeker, a caregiver, a grateful, yet often flawed human. I seek to understand what I can and am open to life as it comes. I accept the mystery of it all.
We often feel like we are singing solos in life that no one else can possibly hear, but as we come to understand the true meaning of love, the duets begin to flow with harmonies that not only surprise us but lead us to understand that behind our single voices exists a choir of souls who bring beauty, strength, and courage to our voice a symphony of human connection. We were all Rachael’s backup singers.
This is a dedication, then, to Rachael and to all of us, who will not only love her forever, but because of her also understand how to better love each other.
Searching for Answers
H AWAI I AND A RIZONA J ANUARY –M ARCH , 2006

WE HAD BECOME a fragmented family by the year 2000. After our divorce in Colorado, Michael headed off to Texas to work and I found my way to Arizona to help with my aging father. Keana had gotten her business degree at Colorado State University, married Brandon, and settled in Denver. Rachael had gotten her degree in Asian Studies and Japanese at the University of Colorado in Boulder, then moved home to her beloved beach in Kailua, Hawai i, in 2004.
I was at work that Thursday in January of 2006 in the endoscopy department of Mayo Clinic in Arizona, when Keana reached me by phone. Some people have memories that allow them to recall details with precision. My recall has always been a muffled sort of recollection with minutia lost, yet with the essence intact. I remember hearing that Rachael had been to the doctor because of pain in her left upper back and that an X-ray had revealed a "spot." I remember thanking Keana for calling and trying to make as many phone calls as possible on my lunch hour to get an understanding of what was truly happening. There was not one moment in that day that I thought that Rachael had cancer. This incredibly healthy, active, joyful twenty-three year old might have a strange infection but never, ever cancer. As a nurse, I had spent years working with cancer patients, and it never crossed my mind that she could possibly be one.
Rachael had already had a CT scan done of her chest and had seen a pulmonologist by the time the dust was clearing on that day. I took my cues from Rachael, talking matter-of-factly about the possibilities. The doctor had told her it could be a fungal infection or "some kind of mass" and he would do a bronchoscopy first thing on Monday morning. Rach’s dad Michael immediately left Texas to return to Hawai i on Friday and I flew in on Sunday night before the procedure. My siblings rearranged their schedules to be available to help with our dad. My boss at Mayo Clinic said simply, "Go, call us for anything, and we’ll see you when you get back." It was to be my last day of work at Mayo, although that never occurred to me either.
I can’t tell you much about that Monday but I can remember Cheyne talking quietly with Rachael after the procedure was done. I can’t remember who I called first to say yes, it is a mass. Our doctor had tried to get enough tissue sample for an accurate pathology report but as the mass wasn’t easily accessible through a scope, the next step would be to schedule a fine needle biopsy. OK … just tell us what it is and how to fix it.
After completing the fine needle biopsy a couple of long days later, the pathology report was still inconclusive so our doctor said that he needed to send the sample out to a second lab for another opinion. I can tell you right now that the moments waiting for return phone calls from doctors and test results to be completed are some of the most wrenching moments of life. So much hangs in the balance: fear of the unknown, the word cancer, the possible new life trajectory that is now out of one’s hands.
Rachael thought I was being pushy, but I finally called her doctor after waiting politely for several days only to be told that the second opinion was also inconclusive and that we needed to be referred to another medical center on the mainland. On one of our doctor visits we had asked if we were jeopardizing Rachael’s health with each day that went by without treatment. The answer was no,