REMARKABLE PEOPLE

Who knew that my partner would die at age 72. We certainly never expected it. Not even when we heard his final diagnosis – Multiple Myeloma. With good response to treatment he’d have at least 3 more years, maybe even 10. We counted on it. But it was not the hand we were dealt.

After months of unrelenting fatigue unsuccessfully treated with medications and rest, Ben made the decision to see a hematologist. Here in Mexico. He had no desire to return to the States. The local specialty clinic we worked through (Quality Care) scheduled us with Dra. Ana Isabel Moncada. It would be a major turning point in our lives and the beginning of meeting many remarkable people.

I have worked with nurmerous doctors in my career as a nurse. Dra. Ana certainly ranks among the best. Dedicated, curious, intelligent, compassionate and kind, she guided us through the many steps of diagnosis and treatment, visited us during Ben’s month at home before his death and even attended the celebration of what would’ve been his 73rd birthday on September 24th. She has asked to stay in touch with me, this 30-something year old, and I have heartily agreed.

At Quality Care we came to know Lety, the patient and compassionate clinic secretary. The supremely trained team of cardiologists, gastroenterologist, nephrologist-Dr. Hector Briseño and Dra. Ashley, Dr. Daniel Briseño, Dr. Hugo Chávez, and a few others who stepped in briefly as needed, showed concern and compassion from the start.  What comes to mind is the kindness the cardiologists showed when Ben was taken to their office on his way from the nursing home to our home.  Just as I’d predicted he refused to get out of the vehicle – who could blame him?  Dra. Ashley moved quickly to assess him in the van, carrying stethoscope and blood pressure cuff with her.  After about 5 minutes she returned to the waiting room somewhat breathless – “I have to get Dr. Briseño. Ben won’t get out of the car!”  Both hurried to the van, returning within minutes, motioning me into the office to express their concerns about his condition.  We discussed his decline and his need to be on as few cardiac medications as possible due to extreme weight loss.  Done.  Hands held.  “If you need anything…”. The van delivered Ben to our beautiful home shortly thereafter.

Claudia Navarro came highly recommended as owner of the 5 bed assisted living facility known as Well Wishes. There was simply not time for me to visit possible care facilities in Ajijic and I couldn’t bare to leave Ben alone, so we took the word of our friend Alex, experienced in overseeing nursing homes in NC. Claudia became the link between us and the hospital where surprisingly few spoke English. She provided transportation to and from her facility, attended Ben’s admission and discharge with each treatment in order to speed the insurance process and ultimately provided everything needed for Ben’s care at home.

Ismael saved me from sleepless nights and insurance frustrations on Ben’s last 2 trips to the hospital for chemotherapy.  A bilingual resident of Guadalajara, he was a godsend provided by Claudia. Patient and invested in the wellbeing of his client, he became like family, so when Ben decided to come home, Ismael came along, alternating 48 hour shifts with paramedic/firefighter Liliana.

Liliana was a jewel. 25 years old, compassionate, patient and highly motivated (studying to be a criminal investigator), she alternated 24 hour shifts with 21 year old Jorge when Ben’s care needs intensified. Both are bomberos (firefighters) and paramedics. Liliana was always busy helping Ben, cooking and cleaning. Her English comprehension was fairly good and her speaking skills improved daily. It wasn’t as easy for Jorge. He and Ben struggled to understand each other, frustrating for them both. But English speaking caregivers were hard to find and when Jorge was present for Ben’s death, he was kind, professional and efficient.

So many others during our 3 week hospital stay…the cabelleros who did all the lifting and transfers when Ben’s body failed him; Mariloly who managed insurance issues in the hospital during the day, spoke near perfect English, and provided, literally, a shoulder to cry on; the young ambulance driver who went out of his way to return Ben’s glasses to him after he left them in the MRI room of a different hospital. Even the friendly blue-eyed Mexican waiter who smiled and waved when he saw me coming across the street for a meal.

Then there was Ray. Standing at the nurses station one afternoon I tried to use Google Translate to ask if the nurse knew anything about our release. Frustrating. Not understanding. A man wearing the mandatory mask walked up and offered to help. “I’m from Ajijic”, I told him, “and I’m trying to figure out when we can go home.”  “I live in Ajijic, too, but my mother is a patient here right now.” I recognized him and remembered his reputation for helping others. “You’re Ray Dominech!” Indeed. At 9 that night, still waiting for discharge, the hospital insurance rep showed up trying to explain our options IN SPANISH – stay here without any services (where’s the ED??) or take a taxi home I learned with Ray’s help.  I left the hall to talk to Ben about his preference. No way. To either scenario. Outside the door l I found Ray smiling, his hand resting on the rep’s shoulder. “Chris, you and Ben stay here tonight. You’ll have whatever you need.” In his charming way Ray had convinced the rep that running a humanitarian service meant treating people like human beings. We were discharged the next morning, thankfully, after an uneventful night.

The process of filing insurance in Mexico is less than fun. Factura is a dirty word. After a few months of totally ignoring the paperwork needed (I thought Ben was handling it) and fussing at the insurance agents for not doing their jobs (what was I thinking???), I called to apologize and asked for their help.  From that moment on Andre and Maria at Bellon Insurance were on task, kind, patient and thorough.

When our friend Sydney heard what was going on with us she called to ask what we needed. FOOD! I said. (I’d learned as a hospice nurse that folks generally really do want to help when they ask. Giving them something specific makes it easier on everyone.) For over 2 weeks the food train she set up provided us with enough to keep our shaky appetites satisfied. And I can’t forget Robyn – who showed up unexpectedly sometimes with snacks and meals.

January, our sweet neighbor/Nurse Practitioner, stepped in without hesitation to administer Ben’s B12 shots for the few weeks before his final diagnosis when the hematologist thought it might help. He always had a smile for her and looked forward to her kind and cheerful visits. Somehow it didn’t hurt as much when shots came from her instead of me!

Patty – here in 30 minutes the day I needed rescuing after Ben died. Her calm spirit saved the day. And Vidette, first friend we made here, who went to the funeral home and the lawyer with me, clarifying things my muddled mind just couldn’t take in. The 2 of them helped me set up the house for the birthday gathering to celebrate Ben’s life, including flowers for every room, for a group of 41 – half gringo, half Mexican – who gathered to tell stories about him, light candles (he loved this) and toast him with champagne. A gathering that left me wrapped in a warm blanket of love.

Then there’s Kat & Mike (& Joy). The morning Ben fell, after calling his doctor and our driver Salvador, I ran outside to leave some money for the pool guy. Our new neighbor we’d known for less than a month was playing with her dog Joy in the vacant lot in front of our house. “I can’t believe it, Kat. Ben fell. I have to take him to the hospital in Guad!” “Give me the dog. Give me the dog & a set of keys. We’ll take care of him.” And so they did. For 3 weeks (+ the 10 days I just spent in North Carolina on business). Several times during our hospital stay I sent word that I had another friend who’d keep him. “No. He’s happy in his own neighborhood. No problem.” Selfless generosity. (Even now they don’t hesitate to take care of him for a few hours. Tumi & Joy have become buds, Kat & Mike Tita & Tito – aunt & uncle.). The week I lost my wallet, broke a tooth and had food poisoning Kat was there with hugs, instructions and reminders to breathe when I needed it most.

Loretta Downs, End of Life doula, was the one who guided Ben “to the threshold” 3 days before his death, who clarified for him that his body was no longer capable of doing what he wanted it to, who told him it was up to him now. It was Loretta who suggested books, the sprinkling of flower petals after Ben’s passing, and then followed up for weeks thereafter to make sure I was OK.

There were – and still are – so many others who called, wrote, visited. (If I’ve left your name out forgive me.). Those I meet on the street the mornings I walk Tumi in surrounding neighborhoods. Laurie, Rudolfo, Sharon, Ron. Cesar who was there for us when we needed him. Diana at the small local pharmacy. Alejandra, Adriana and Georgina at the Tuesday market who kept – keep – close tabs on me with heartfelt hugs given without hesitation. Shari and Beto nearby, always on call. The young Mexican couple and the petite elderly woman who run restaurants in town, our vet, even the gas delivery man. Gaylee and Linda Joy who offered me free bodywork after Ben’s passing. My housekeeper Alba who spent the night here after Ben died and brought lunch on my birthday 3 weeks later. Ben’s beloved classmate Mercedes who whisked me off to her tucked away home for a day of rest. Neighbors away in Canada for the time being and friends and family back in the US writing/calling to check on us. And so many others. Our sweet pup Tumi, so dear to Ben, to us both, often climbed up on the hospital bed, licked Ben’s nose, then settled down next to him or on his rug under the bed (perfect height to walk under!), keeping watch. Community has taken on new meaning. People ask if I’m going back to the US…right now I can’t bear the thought of leaving this safe and supportive neighborhood.

But the most remarkable person of all was Ben. He came here to start a new life, with the express goal of developing community, something he’d not really done in NC where he was steeped in managing his jewelry business. He knew the postman, the UPS guy and the bankers there but was mostly too busy, too introverted, too private for much else. A friend of mine told me she’d seen Ben drop “his emotional armor” since moving here. Well said. It didn’t take him long here in Mexico to open his heart, reach out, invite, explore. I watched him, as he was dying, accept the care offered him from around the clock caregivers – stran – with grace. I watched as he held his hand out to me and to those many who visited in spite of their own discomfort, thanking them for coming, for being part of his life; as he talked with family and friends on his rare moments on the phone, telling them goodbye and wishing them well. I watched him leave his earthly body quietly, peacefully and with grace. He wasn’t perfect. None of us are. But he lived a good life and he died a good death. He was generous and kind and loved by many. There’s not much more you can ask for.