The Storm Within My Body After the Drumming Clinical Study

I was participating in a Drumming Clinical Study, which I really enjoyed. And I was so disappointed that I was unable to complete the study because I ended up in the emergency room on Dec. 24 in a terribly weakened state. Eventually, I was admitted to Morton Plant Hospital in Largo, Florida. My blood work was getting worse by the minute, so I was transferred to the intensive care unit. It was there that I began to think that I might not make it. 

So, I began considering end-of-life measures. I immediately signed a DNR (do not resuscitate) order with my specific requests. The oncologists were trying everything to help me and nothing was working. I told all the doctors, including the hospitalist, that I wasn’t afraid to die and that I was at peace with myself.

As a snow bird, having completed my health care directives with my lawyer in upstate New York, I was happy to read in the Morton Plant Hospital admission papers that the state of Florida would honor the health care directives of New York state.

After reviewing all of this, I began to plan my memorial service.  I decided that I would like to have three services, one in each of the three Quaker meetings where I’ve felt loved and valued by the members. I asked friends if they would oversee each service by explaining to those who aren’t Quakers what this tradition is like, so they would know what to expect in a Quaker-style worship service. Then I planned the music for each service by asking my musician friends to play for each service.

For the Rochester Friends Meeting, I asked John O’Brien if he would play the Barcarolle in F Sharp Major Op, 60, by Frederic Chopin. Every time I listen to this piece of music, I see flashes of my life from my childhood to adulthood. It makes me feel as if I have come full circle and that God is still working in my life.

The second memorial will take place at Farmington Friends Church where my partner, John, and I were married in the Quaker tradition. This meeting is special because I have preached in this church and the members still remember my sermon, even years later. The sermon was about driftwood I collected on the Outer Banks of North Carolina during the summer of 1974.  I gave each member of the congregation a piece of driftwood, which they’ve kept as a memory of that day. Ten years later, members still tell me they remember that sermon! It touches my heart.

This congregation has also supported my writing by publishing my spiritual meditations in their regular news bulletin over the years. The feedback was always so positive and uplifting to me that it kept me inspired and motivated.

I asked Ted Perry to play a medley of spirituals, beginning with “Steal Away,” “Deep River” and “There is a Balm in Gilead.” Then I asked him to do a spontaneous jazz rendition of other spirituals that were pressed on his heart at that time. He will improvise with the leading of the Spirit. I selected the first three songs because they reflect my growing up in the Baptist tradition, but also because of my college years singing these songs in the Hampton University Chapel Choir. They bring back wonderful memories of choir rehearsals when we were inspired and encouraged by the minister of music.

Finally, the last service will be held at the Clearwater Friends Meeting, since this is the meeting that I attend as a snow bird.  This community embraced my singing during the meetings and they published both articles for the CURE cancer magazine, as well as my other spiritual meditations in their newsletter. I have asked Shawn Thomas to play Widor’s Toccata by Charles Marie Widor.  Shawn is the director of Art for Faith’s Sake, a free public music series which I’ve enjoyed attending over the years. Shawn and I have become friends. I selected this piece because it is my partner’s favorite and it would bring joy to all who listen to it. It has a tendency to lift the heavy burdens from our hearts and elevate our spirits. There is also an outstanding organ in Shawn’s church which will make for an exceptional performance. There’s nothing better than listening to great organ music on an exceptional instrument in the right acoustic setting.

Everyone will leave the memorial in a joyous spirit.

The next thing I want to do is to thank the donors who gave me platelets and blood. Fortunately, the hospital had a message from my donor system stating I could send the donors a thank you note through MessageMyDonor.com. I’m so grateful to all those who helped me during the critical period of my intensive care unit stay.

When I was transferred to a medical unit, I began to hear the moans and cries of other patients. I asked my nurse about one man who was asking for help.  She told me he was confused. If I’d had more strength, I’d have gone to his room to hold his hand. But since I was in such a weakened state, I prayed that he would calm down.

Directly across from my room was another man who was moaning. So, I began to pray for him. This took my focus off my suffering, so I could focus on others. These prayerful acts lifted my spirits, especially when the man across the hall stopped moaning. I felt as if my prayers had been answered.

Then I had a terrible fall. While I was in my bed, I leaned over and my head hit the metal bottom of the food tray. The doctors ordered a brain scan and found a small hematoma at the base of my cerebellum.

They monitored that to make sure it didn’t enlarge or bleed more. Fortunately, it remained under control. What I did notice was that my head felt heavy and it was hard for me to remain upright.

At one point, the nurses tried to get me out of bed. I couldn’t believe how weak I was! I couldn’t stand. I was totally helpless. I never had that feeling before but it made me feel like a baby. I couldn’t dress or bathe myself. I was incontinent and wore Depends to help me. I was in shock. Tears rolled down my cheeks while the nurses cared for me. I was so embarrassed!

But the good nurses reinforced the fact that they were there to take care of me. One nurse in particular took a special interest in me. Her name was Shellie. She made sure I was always clean and comfortable in my bed. She also made sure my meals were scheduled and delivered on time. And Shellie always entered my room with a smile on her face.

Another nurse stood out because of her joyous spirit and her lovely voice. She told me she had stage 4 colon cancer and was going to work as long as she could. I shared some of my CURE articles with her and she found them helpful and inspirational.  She was also an inspiration to me and we prayed for each other. Every time she entered my room, I felt joy radiating from her, which lifted my spirits.

It’s amazing how another person can lift us from the depths of despair!

At the present time, I’m still struggling.  I’m back at home after being discharged the second time on Feb. 5. I’ve been back in the emergency room and am back at home again. I have a walker and am slowly learning how to walk again. The left side of my body is very weak. Though I haven’t had a stroke, this must be how it feels. It may be just a side effect from one of the many medications I’m taking.

I continue to be hopeful!

I frequently listen to a recording of the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, singing “God is Working.” This is one of the verses:

God is working. He’s still working.

God is working even now.

Though we don’t know just how

God is working.  He’s still working

God is working even now.

Though I don’t understand why I’m suffering, I try to hold onto my faith and believe that God is somehow still working in me.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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