Mike Flacy

As I sat in the dim room at the Cornerstone hospice watching my mother cope with the continuous stream of brutal pain from her final bout of cancer, I can’t see my mother anymore.  She’s frail, tired and wisps in and out of consciousness.  She sees us and hear us, but has lost the ability to respond to our questions due to lack of brain function.  The combination of chemotherapy and radiation treatments have destroyed her bone marrow and slowly disintegrated her resistance to the tumors growing all over the insides of her body.  Neurophy has spread from her feet upwards to make her skin ache to the touch and she moans in pain every time someone has to move her.  She’s my mother, cruelly trapped in a dying body.