The end of treatment?

Over the weekend John talked about the possibility of ending his treatment at Edward Cancer Center. The IV fluids he receive are entirely his choice, suggested by the doctor to flush Calcium out of the blood. He can continue this regimen as long as he feels up to it, or he can decline this treatment at any time. On Sunday he said he wanted Monday to be his last day. (I have to chuckle knowing that for John, bringing closure to anything is soooo difficult and if he "thinks" it will be his last, it probably won't. )

I decided to use John's inclination to end treatment as incentive to say our thank yous to the doctor and nurses. We have received excellent and loving care at Edward and we wanted to give a small gift of love and gratitude. A few months ago I did a photo tour of the Cancer Center here http://margiefawcett.blogspot.com/2008/01/day-at-edwards-cancer-center.html. In this post I said, "When I am packing up for the hospital, the last thing on my mind is, 'Why don't I bake a pan of brownies?'!'"

I must admit I have to literally EAT MY WORDS on this one. Its true, I have not brought treats on any other occasion, but knowing we might not come back, I really wanted to bake brownies.

Charlotte and Josiah helping decorate cookies for the nurses.

I stayed up until 3am baking, writing a card, etc. I packed my camera and charged the video camera. I was hoping John would play the piano. I have asked him many times and he has always refused. He has not felt well, or has wanted to use the time to work on the computer or has felt just plain disappointed at the declining level of his piano skill.



John was on the verge of vomiting the entire ride to Edward. When we arrived at the Center I gave the nurses our note. John received many hugs and kisses from the nurses who now know and love him. (When someone else takes John to the Treatment Center I get a report from the nurses the next day. They'll say, "The man who was in here on Wednesday did a wonderful job with John." or "I've never seen someone bring so many different people in here. I say to John, 'Who's here with you today?' And the thing is, all of the people are so good to him. One man even took a blanket from me and covered John up." I told the nurses that John has built friendships over many years and lots of people love him.




John had his blood drawn as usual and the Calcium level was higher than ever- 18.1. As Dr. Hantel has told us before, "If you or I had that level of Calcium in our blood we would be in a coma, but he has built up a tolerance." We were disappointed to hear the Calcium level and John decided he would return to the Cancer Center every day this week. He also decided to play the piano for everyone. It was a transcendent experience.

There John sat with his eyelids drooping, frustrated that I had not brought any classical sheet music. The nurses were gathered around, uncertain of what they would hear. They have no idea what kind of musician he is and they also know his Calcium level. They were about to witness a John Fawcett miracle.




I said, "Why don't you play Amazing Grace?" It was like holy electricity poured through his arms and hands as he ministered to us with the music. There was not a dry eye in the room.



John has been going to the Treatment Center for many months now. These folks know him, but none of them knew he played the piano. They could not believe it. Derrek said, "I've never seen him have this much energy." Because of the relationships John has built over time, this gift of music found a home in each heart. I asked him to play the Our Father he had written. He wanted me to sing with him, so together we did his Our Father and his Holy Holy. It seemed to me like drops of Light were raining down.



I have lifted up many prayers in that place, but I never thought I would get to join John in literally filling the room with worship... Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of Power and Might!