I am writing this in week four of our stay at the Fisher House. In the building next door, only steps away, lives my 47-year-old stepson, Matt. Matt is living in the VA Community Living Center’s Hospice Unit, dying of colon rectal cancer. Because the Fisher House exists, we can honor Matt’s request to not die alone.
Matt, a Navy Veteran, athlete, hiker, and bike racer, loved to count his steps. Even during his illness, he would report to us how he challenged himself to do more steps each day. Now, when we leave his bedside, we are able to reassure him that if you need anything, Matt, we’re just next door, steps away. I expect him at some point to ask me, “How many steps, Christine?” But I haven’t counted them. All I know is that he is close, and that’s all that counts right now.
We are retired north of the Oregon Coast, living in Tillamook County. The drive from our small town is peaceful. We leave the ocean and head east along the Tillamook Forest to arrive in the Portland metropolitan area. During Matt’s illness, his dad, me, and his mom made countless trips over the coast range. On a good day with good weather, no wrecks on the highway, and no animals crossing the road, it would take about 2 hours to get to Matt’s appointment for the last two years.
We’ve always known this part of the journey would be before us. On day one of the diagnosis, we knew the cancer was not curable. Treatment to extend Matt's life, maybe 2 to 2 1/2 years, but not curable. We had to face the fact that treatment was no longer an option; the new road in front of us was finding hospice care for Matt. We were focused and hoping an opening would become available at the Community Living Center in Vancouver. We did not have the stamina or the time to consider where we would stay. Options were to stay with friends in PDX but still be too far from Matt in an emergency,or tap into retirement to pay for hotels and restaurants. We learned about Fisher House. This lit a candle, hoping there would be a place in the Fisher House inn where Matthew was transferred.
We got the call; there was an opening for Matt. Early one Monday morning, we threw together an overnight bag, drove to the Portland VA, and then followed Matt in his medical transport to Vancouver. Once settled in, we looked at each other and said, "Let’s see about Fisher House." Not too good at protocol, we didn't wait for the social worker to guide us there. James answered the door and heard what I now believe must have sounded like a frantic story. His first question was, "Do you need somewhere tonight?" He assured us that once he received the referral from the social worker, we would have a room. We immediately knew we were going to be taken care of, but at that time we had no idea the extent of that care. We moved quickly into an impeccably clean, beautifully furnished, homelike setting. A kitchen with donated food in the refrigerator welcomed us, with many nights of homemade dinners from volunteers and many compelling stories told by other residents. Those who listen to our walk provide comfort and help us feel stronger. They understand the challenges of bearing witness to your loved one’s suffering. We are steps away from him at night, which means we can try to sleep at night after difficult days. We don’t face a hazardous coast range drive. We are tired, but we come home to Fisher House. We are steps away from a meal, a quiet talk on the deck, warm greetings from Dawn, James, or Bob, and Veterans and their families.
We will forever hold Fisher House close to our hearts, remembering this part of the journey. We feel cared for here, where we are only steps away from saying goodbye to dear Matt.
Matt passed away on September 15, 2023. Friends of Fisher House Puget Sound sends our heartfelt sympathy, peace, and comfort to Christine, Steve, Matt's mother, loved ones, family, and friends. It is with sincere gratitude -we thank you for sharing your story.
Friends of Fisher House Puget Sound ~ we keep families together because a family's love is good medicine!
Friends of Fisher House Puget Sound PO Box 18253 Seattle, WA 98118 206-501-8860 [email protected]
