It probably started in 2016. Possibly as early as 2015. The signs were infrequent, subtle, relatively innocuous, and easily dismissed. In June of 2017, there was an unexplained bout of sepsis, but the recovery was swift and complete. Then, just a year later, back to the hospital for what was again thought to be sepsis, but was eventually declared SIRS (Systemic Inflammatory Response Syndrome) because no underlying infection could be found. The assault had begun.
This time there was no full recovery and the deterioration began in earnest. Memory issues. Weakness. Loss of muscle control. Cognitive issues. Many, many doctor visits, hospital stays, consultants and consultations, misdiagnoses. “It’s the cortisone,” used for years to control asthma. But it wasn’t the cortisone. “We’re very sorry, it’s pancreatic cancer.” But it wasn’t pancreatic cancer. “It could be the monoclonal antibody infusions,” also for asthma. But it wasn’t the antibodies, either.
It acted like MS, but wasn’t. It mimicked dozens of things, but it was none of them. It created thousands of brain lesions, which helped explain the symptoms, but in the end, a lesion is simply the aftermath, the damage caused by . . . something. A virus? A toxin? A tumor? So it was off to Boston, never to return home, but we didn’t know that on the September day when she left our home in Greenfield for the last time, the house we had built together so many years before.
In Boston, there was testing. So much testing. Blood, MRI’s, CAT scans, physical exams, muscle biopsies, more blood, always more blood. Exhaustive interviews. Every aspect of her life and behavior examined, dozens of results pouring in, many abnormal, but none diagnostic. Twelve days with some of the world’s best studying the problem, but no pattern emerged, no conclusions, no help forthcoming.
Samples sent off to the famous national clinic, results anxiously awaited, tests exhausted, it was off to a nursing home for physical therapy to try to preserve what was left. Hail Mary treatment had begun for antibody deficiency. Maybe —just possibly — it would rally her immune system, slow or stop the damage. But it didn’t. Nothing worked and in December 2018, I lost her. Her name was Jean Fielding, and for nearly 40 years she was the love of my life. She was never diagnosed.
Grieving is a struggle in the best of times, and these are hardly the best of times. Struggling with my own, I turned to writing, at the suggestion of an inspired therapist. The result is a book, “Poems in A Time of Grief.”My hope is that my book may provide some solace to those, like me, who are grieving a deep loss. But I’d like it to be about more than that.
In this time of a pandemic, local businesses are struggling and food insecurity has increased greatly in our community and in the Valley. My wife was an ardent supporter of the Food Bank, a tradition I’ve continued. To honor her, to try and offer support to local businesses, and to reach out to those who are experiencing grief in this difficult time, I’ve partnered with the Food Bank of Western Mass. For every copy of “Poems In A Time of Grief ” sold in local bookstores in the months of November and December, I will personally donate $6.50, one-half the cover price, to the Food Bank.
Participating bookstores are World Eye in Greenfield, Boswell’s in Shelburne Falls, Moon Books in Easthampton, Broadside Books in Northampton, and Amherst Books in Amherst. If you’d like to learn more, please visit my website, poemsinatimeofgrief.com.
If you’re grieving, or know someone who is (or perhaps you just like poetry) I hope you’ll think about supporting the Food Bank and local bookstores by purchasing a copy, and maybe while you’re there, doing some other holiday shopping as well.
Regardless, if you’re grieving, I hope you reach out and seek the help and support you need, and find the peace you seek. The burdens of our current world and political situation have made the process of loss and grieving much more complicated. Going it alone simply isn’t a good option. Please take care of yourself.
Gary Greene is a resident of Greenfield.