Happy with heavenly family
My mom, Marie Kube of Crofton, died Sept. 7, 2004. Whenever The Grand Island
Independent ran a cancer story, the temptation to tell my story kept gnawing at me. I kept
pushing that nagging thought away. I would have to think about too many memories … memories
that I have tucked away. But the story writing kept taunting me. I must tell my story.
My mother was on 75 when she was diagnosed with cancer of the ampulla of vater, a
cancer of the head of the pancreas. There was longevity in her family. Her mother passed away
just shy of reaching 100. She was the youngest of 11 siblings. All but one sister are alive and well
and no history of cancer.
Mom was a young 75, healthy. She walked one to two miles daily. She was very active in
her church and community. She took care of my dad, who was showing signs of early dementia.
She had regular checkups. Her only medication was for osteoporosis. But in the spring of 2002,
she noticed a lack of appetite. Not worrying about it too much, she thought it nice to lose a little
weight. Not long after that, she noticed her skin yellowing. She had no pain. She had no other
symptoms.
After some exhausting tests and anxious days, the ampullary cancer diagnosis was made.
My family researched, consulted experts and educated ourselves as much as possible to try to
make the right decisions. After many prayers, rosaries and novenas, my mom and her seven kids
thought her best chance for a cure was to have this “big surgery,” known as the Whipple
operation. The head of the pancreas, a portion of the bile duct, gall bladder, duodenum and part
of the stomach are removed. We located a doctor at the Mayo Clinic who performs one of these
big surgeries almost daily, about three to four per week. So the Mayo Clinic was our choice
because of the doctor’s experience with this surgery.
She got through the sever-hour surgery without complications. But of the 30 or so
biopsied lymph nodes, three came back positive … which meant metastasis … which meant the
cancer had already spread … which meant chemotherapy and radiation.
So after the surgery, Mom prepared herself for the next phase of her cure. With more
research, consults with oncologists, further treatment was decided to be done at the University of
Nebraska Medical Center three months after her surgery. It was more foreign territory for Mom -
5FU, a chemotherapy drug; tumor markers; Infusaport; radiation tattoo markings. The words
“Boost” and “Ensure” (the high-caloric drink most chemo patients are familiar with) became like
cuss words for Mom. She hated it all so much, the drinks, the chemo side effects, the no energy.
But she did what she needed to do to stay strong and gain weight. With all of her family
supporting her and staying with her, she got through her six weeks of chemo and radiation.
She fought for 29 long months. Some good days. Some not-so-good days. She underwent
another round of chemotherapy in the spring of 2004. She had more knowledge of PET scans, CAT
scans, tumor markers and pancreatic enzymes than she ever wanted to know about. And when
she sensed she may be losing the battle to this hideous disease she continued to have her faith
and trust in the will of the Lord. She would say that this was her cross. Her courageous words,
“Why not me?” were always a part of her conversations.
Her final hours were spent with Dad, her kids and her grandkids at her bedside, praying
rosaries and the beautiful Chaplets of Divine Mercy. We were in our home, where Mom and Dad
raised seven kids and where she lived for 55 years with my father. A hospice nurse was in the
background, never interfering with the grieving family but so helpful, supportive and
compassionate. Our dog, Jake, who would always accompany Mom on her daily walks, became so
agitated the night she died that he tore the screen on out front porch door.
I believe Mom is in heaven now, watching and guiding her kids and grandkids. I still catch
myself trying to call her when I need to ask her why my peach jam didn’t set or why my apple pie
doesn’t taste like hers.
My 6-year-old niece, Abby drew a picture the day after her passing, and we used it on the
funeral card. The drawing had six images on it: Gandma’s guardian angel, Mary, Jesus, the hand of
God, a bird representing the Holy Spirit, and Grandma in the middle of all these figures. In Abby’s
picture, Grandma was happy and smiling. She was free of wrinkles, free of pain and full of joy. She
is now with her heavenly family and couldn’t be happier.
UPDATE MARCH 1, 2009:
After fighting for 29 months, Patti’s mother, Marie Kube, died of pancreatic cancer. Marie’s courage was clear, as toward the end, she often said, “Why not me?”
“It was hard and sort of scary to write Mom’s story … sort of like baring my soul … knowing it would be published and so many people would read it. It did cause some anxiety that weekend when I knew it was going to be published.
“My main desire for writing the story was to pay my mom tribute. I felt a good way to honor her would be to bring back some of my memories of her cancer and how I perceived it … and share her journey with others. Maybe it would help someone going through something similar.”
Tags: Patti Panowicz
