One day, I was in the coffee shop, playing chess with my friends, when I got the call. My mom explained over the phone that she had stage 4 cancer. She explained that this would be the end. And she was going to die. And I basically could hardly stand up. I remember driving my friend home, and hardly barely being able to drive. I then drove to Wolf Point. There she was, waiting for me on the chair on our porch in front of our big yellow house. My mind took a picture of her like this would be the last time I would see her.
Although she was crying, she explained she felt fine, and that we should just live in the present moment. “Let’s just go about our lives,” she said. And she was right. Plus, she had a plan: she would go to Boulder MT’s radon mines as an alternative to chemotherapy.
The concept of visiting a radon mine to fight cancer might seem counterintuitive at first. After all, radon is a radioactive gas, and radiation is typically associated with an increased risk of cancer. However, proponents of radon therapy believe that exposure to low levels of radiation can actually help the body fight off cancer cells. This idea is related to the concept of hormesis, which posits that a small amount of a harmful substance can have a beneficial effect on the body.
The radon mine in Boulder, Montana, is one such place where people seek out this unconventional therapy. It is believed that the low levels of radiation found in the mine can stimulate the body’s natural defenses, boosting the immune system and potentially combating cancer cells. This idea is based on the principle that a mild stressor, such as low-level radiation, can trigger a protective response in the body, making it stronger and more resilient.
An interesting analogy for this concept can be found in the aftermath of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. It is said that some people who were within a specific “event horizon” of the blast zone actually experienced fewer negative health effects than those who were farther away. While the individuals closest to the epicenter suffered immediate and catastrophic harm, those in the so-called event horizon seemed to benefit from a hormetic response, with the low levels of radiation exposure strengthening their bodies.
Of course, it’s important to approach this concept with caution. The scientific consensus on the safety and efficacy of radon therapy and hormesis remains inconclusive, with many experts advising against seeking radon exposure as a cancer treatment. While the idea of a beneficial “event horizon” is fascinating, more research is needed to fully understand its implications and potential risks.
With this said, I actually went into the mine with her, way down into the ground on an old elevator. It was fascinating to see the writing on the wall – the signatures of the travelers who had come from all over the world to fight their cancer as a last resort.
I didn’t know if it was working. But she felt it was, and was enjoying the experience reading her novels deep within those caves. And so that’s all that mattered. And she was enjoying the last few months of her life.
Eventually the pain hit her. I was down in a conference in L.A. – and instead of telling me, she kept it quiet. She didn’t know that the pain would be so extreme. When I came back, we all agreed that it was time for the meds.
“I can do anything with this, oh this is great …” she said. There was some humor there. But you always hear about how once they get put on meds, that they are no longer the same person. And this was partially true. She was sleeping more and more out of it.
Soon we brought in the Hospice team.
My dad was in denial, but we went through it together. It was grueling helping her do everything you can imagine. I had some experience doing this because I was a caregiver. But of course this was my mom. Sometimes it was so hard, watching her in so much pain, I just thought it wasn’t worth it.
She tried to take her life a couple times. One time she swallowed a bottle of pills. And my dad found her. He took her to the hospital. My take on it was that we should let her go. But he refused. They pumped her belly and brought her back to life.
My dad and I argued over it – and I said we were keeping her around for us, and not for her. And my mom understood this, but my dad didn’t. He said all this stuff about the human spirit wanting to live on. My mom then told me that it was okay. She would go through dying for the people around her, and go through the process for us, rather than for herself.
This of course felt strange! But welcome to the alternate reality of saying goodbye to your best friend for the rest of your life. The good part about her staying, was that we got in that one last hug that meant the world to me. But it was interrupted by the pastor who barged in like he owned the place.
“Pastor’s here!” my dad yelled, running to the door.
We didn’t get to finish our one last hug. I just felt like what we were going through was a sacred moment. None of us invited him. I just remember him banging on the door. With this said, I know he meant the best.
Again – the alternate reality of letting someone go.
Yes, the Pastor made a mistake. But you know what? We all did.
My dad made mistakes left and right. And me? I was so exhausted by this that I could barely keep my stamina up. I spent my time at the hot springs, sitting in the water just to survive. And so I wasn’t there energetically for my mom.
But at least I showed up, as much as I could.
“And we both got to say what we needed to each other,” my mom said to me.
“Yes,” I said, but inside, I was like, we didn’t say anything to each other! I have just begun saying what I need to say! I didn’t even get to hug you goodbye without being interrupted!
And before I knew it, she was gone.
She had gone into a coma.
And I didn’t know what this meant, and my Dad didn’t know what this meant.
But she knew. And she knew that we were all sort of in denial.
A decade later
I remember I used to drive around every night crying in my car all alone for hours on end. I finally wound up getting a therapist, when I realized that normal people don’t do this. And I gotta tell you, it was one of the most magical experiences of my life. I strangely, and wonderfully, even felt like my mom had a part in setting me up with a therapist who would really guide me. And we did it together, her and I.
And now, I somehow seem to have put my life back together again. And by going through this I have come out stronger than I was before. I mean, I always thought I would go insane or crazy from losing her. But I survived. I survived because she would want me to survive. And she raised a fighter. And I would be doing a disservice to how she raised me if I spent the rest of my life driving around and crying every night.
She raised me to be strong.
Dealing with grief is a complicated journey that doesn’t have a set timeline. Everyone grieves differently, and there’s no right or wrong way to do it.
Conclusion
Losing my mom was not easy, and I still feel the pain of her loss. However, I have learned that grief is a process that allows us to honor the ones we have lost by becoming stronger after they are gone. At least for me, to take what she has taught me and to pass it along to my kids.
Throughout my journey, I have learned that time does not necessarily heal all wounds, but it can make them more bearable. It’s important to remember that there is support and help out there for those who are grieving.
I hope that by sharing my story, I can offer comfort and empathy to those who may be going through a similar experience. Remember, you don’t have to go through this alone. If you or a loved one are experiencing grief from losing a loved one, our counselors here at Sunflower Counseling can help you on your journey.
John Michaels, a Missoula native and author, has been captivating readers with his writing for years. A graduate of Brown University’s esteemed creative writing program, Michaels has spent the majority of his career crafting stories that resonate with his readers and capture the essence of the human experience. Despite the demands of raising children, Michaels has continued to pursue his passions, finding solace in the bustling downtown Missoula scene. There, he spends his free time honing his craft, whether it be working on screenplays, playing music, or dedicating himself to his work at Sunflower Counseling, MT.