Remembering Kristi

I was introduced to Kristi from my chemo nurse. She told me all about Kristi, how she is my age, she is super cool and how she loves her like a daughter. She said we'd get along very well! She was right. I met Kristi in the middle of Debra's story and she knew of Debra too. We talked about her a lot, as well as our own diagnoses, treatments, and how we were so similar. We were the same age (33), same metastasis (bones) and very similar treatments. She was diagnosed in 2000 and I in 1998. We never had treatment together (we were off schedule with one another), but she did visit me while I was getting mine. It was so nice to meet someone like me, especially right at my doctor's office. Most of the time I have to meet people online, since it is still rare to find women my age with breast cancer.
Kristi and I would talk for hours on the phone. She had 2 kids, that was another difference! But, we did have the same dog, a Min Pin. That was quite coincidental! She was married, lived nearby, a native of FL and loved country music (OK so we didn't have everything in common!)
When Debra died, we went to her funeral together. I remember being with her was the only way I could have gotten through that. We hugged and supported each other and kept saying, we have to go on, Deb would want it that way. We can't think that we are next. I remember distinctly, standing by our cars as we left Debra's sister's house and saying we are in this together. In the back of my mind, I couldn't help worrying about her. Kristi had been having headaches, nausea, and vomiting. She had scans and bloodwork but nothing showed up. I believe this had been going on since March and here it was June. The radiologists and neurologist said there was nothing wrong, and chalked it up to anxiety. She was having panic attacks because the pain wasn't dissapearing, no matter how much they told her it was nothing.
Finally, after 3 months, they decided to scan her again. MRI of the brain for the 3rd time. This time, something showed. It was a lesion in the brain, not something they would have expected to cause all that nausea and headaches. So, they recommended she have a spinal tap to see if any cancer cells were in her spinal fluid. Kristi called me on a Wednesday and told me it was positive for cancer cells. I was quiet and didn't know what to say. She told me they were planning on putting a reservoir directly into her spinal cord and administering chemo, this would get rid of 80% of the cancer cells. WOW, I thought, great news. There is HOPE!
The next day, I find out that Kristi had a seizure in the shower and she was admitted to ICU.
THIS CAN'T BE RIGHT.... She JUST found out about the spinal cord? How can this happen so soon? I went to see her Friday. I was warned she may not recognize me, since she was having memory trouble after the seizure. I went into the room and she was sleeping. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and said with the biggest smile, "HEY BABY". Tears welled up in my eyes. I said, "Hi Sweetie", "What happened to you?". She just murmered, "I don't know, I don't know". I talked for a few minutes with her friends that were at her bedside. They told me she is resting comfortably, no pain. Her husband was on his way in, and her mom was outside. At that point the ICU nurse asked us to leave so Kristi could rest. That was the last time I saw her.

I spoke to her husband Saturday and he told me they were moving her to a regular room and she would be released Monday to get that reservoir put in. She had a brain radiation treatment already in the hospital. I felt good about that, the treatments were starting, she was on the road to recovery. Sunday came, and I didn't hear from anyone. Monday I called, she was back in ICU. DAMN. She had another seizure, this time it was more serious, she lost consciousness. Not realizing what was happening, I didn't go to the hospital. It was an hour drive and I had chemo scheduled for Tuesday, and I figured I could go there after, since the hospital was next door to where I go for chemo.
Tuesday morning. I am driving to my chemo appointment, it's 10:30am. My phone rings, it's her best friend. "Kristi passed away this morning". Shock, disbelief, anger, tears are streaming. HOW CAN THIS HAPPEN? She was FINE, a week ago she was just like me. Bone mets, that was IT. How can she go to just bone mets to dead in a week? I have that answer....

In March, she started with the headaches and nausea. In March she had an MRI. In March the neurologist said she was fine. SHE WASN'T. Maybe if the neurologist actually talked to the radiologist and the radiologist showed the neurologist the films, they could have seen her brain was not normal. THEY POINT BLANK MISSED IT! Something may have been done for her back in March. How can "competent" medical professionals who are in the medical field for decades do this? This kind of behavior is not acceptable, and it has to be punished. Unfortunately, there are a lot of frivilous medical malpractice lawsuits out there, but this is NOT one of them. The only way to punish these "doctors" is to hit them in the wallet where it hurts. Kristi didn't deserve to be treated like this. She didn't deserve to have 5 dayswith this diagnosis without getting the chance to fight. I know how Kristi was, she was like me, a fighter. If she had the chance she would be here right now. I know that for a fact!
At her funeral I was numb. This feeling was different than at Debra's. It was unbelievable. Surreal. So fast. Debra's, while it was tragic, wasn't like this. She had the chance to fight. Kristi was taken, without warning. That was harder to deal with, for me and for a lot of people.
This wasn't they way it was supposed to happen. Really it shouldn't happen at all. Whether you linger, or you go fast, it ISN'T FAIR!
I can't even talk about Kristi to our oncologist. Not only does he feel the loss, it was especially difficult for a doctor who was trying to do everything he could to save her life, only to realize he never had an exact diagnosis.
I miss her a lot. I try to tell myself that she didn't suffer. She is in a better place, without pain, worry, or fear. It's hard to explain but part of me feels envious. I don't want to leave here just yet, however I want to feel ONE day without worry and fear. I have brief moments, but it's always with me, always. So are you Kristi my dear, sweet friend.