Final expenses for Cyndi Nickerson

My name is Bill Lasley. This is the one of the most difficult and humbling things I have had to do in my almost 47 years. My mom Cyndi passed away 2/12/2022. Many of you knew her. Those that did, know how much of a spitfire she could be at times. In her early 30's Mom was diagnosed with stage 2A Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I'll never forget that day. After months of multiple doctor visits, evaluations, and being told her symptoms were "all in her head", a very diligent doctor referred her to an oncologist. After some testing at Johns Hopkins, the oncologist said "Cyndi, it's not all in your head. You have cancer. You have something called Hodgkins. It's stage 2A, which is serious. At stage 2B, it's terminal." As a pre-teen I had no idea what many of those words meant. For the next 6 months, I watched my mom take 13 chemotherapy treatments. She lost all of her hair and was literally fighting for her life. She would need help walking in the house after treatments and would sleep. Then after a day of rest, she would go right back to work, 8 hours a day. I remember her vomiting after those treatments, being so weak she could barely raise her head off the pillow. Yet, somehow with a little rest, she would find it in herself to get up and go to work for her family. I had always known Mom was strong, but those 6 months proved to me she was a living super-hero. When the treatments were complete and she was told she was in remission, she said "We're going to Disney World to celebrate!" That's just what we did. I remember the doctor telling us at one point that one of the drugs they used in her chemo, was an ingredient they used to make mustard gas. So often I would look at her through the years and think, how the hell did she get through that? She literally had a biological war going on inside her and was inundated with chemical warfare...basically. Yet she persevered. Time went on and Mom developed so many ailments. Those aliments led to the menagerie of medications she needed to take after chemo. The list of meds kept growing. Some of the meds were prescribed solely to counter act the effects of other meds she had to take. It was a viscous cycle, a cruel reality...her reality and ours...her family. Yet she never complained. She often worked two jobs to ensure her family had what we needed. I remember her once telling me, "I'll go without forever, so you won't have to for one day." I never fully understood that until I became a parent myself. Mom's health continued to decline throughout the years. Osteo-arthritis, COPD, Stage 3 kidney disease, fibromyalgia, ulcers, colitis, IBS, the list just kept growing. All the while, Mom kept on going. In 1999, she became a grandmother to my son Ayden. She was over the moon. I know people use that phrase all the time, but I'm telling you, she was. I had never seen her so full of joy as the day she held Ayden for the first time.  He was her pride and joy. Throughout my childhood and into my early adulthood Mom and I were extremely close. As I got older, we certainly had our ups and downs and over these last 10 years, we had truly reconciled. These last 2-3 years, Mom's visits to the hospital became more frequent. She had open heart surgery, shoulder replacements, heart caths, you name it. The running joke was she was building/financing the new addition at Upper Chesapeake, our local hospital. On 1/23/2022 my grandmother called to say they were taking Mom by ambulance to the hospital. She was having extreme abdominal pain. After sitting alone in the ER for HOURS, she was finally seen. They found a 3 inch tear in her colon. This had led to sepsis and they needed to do emergency surgery. That very surgery left her with permanent colostomy, on a ventilator, multiple IV's, and under heavy sedation. As soon as she could have visitors, I headed to hospital to see her. It was horrific. This lively, fun loving, strong woman was helpless. It was devastating to see. After just over two weeks of being on the ventilator we were told she needed to come off, or we risked pneumonia, infection, her lungs hardening, etc. Monday 2/7/22 while in bed, the phone rang. The nurse on other end of the line explained we were nearing the time to remove her from the vent. All attempts to wean her off had failed. Her lungs just couldn’t sustain breathing on her own. She recommended a tracheotomy. My heart sunk because I knew there was no way Mom would want that. The next day, I went to see her, this time I had to get her to tell me what to do. I had tossed and turned all night, agonizing over the "right thing to do." They had backed off the sedation, though sleepy at times, she was able to communicate by shaking her head yes or no, blinking her eyes, winking, squeezing your hand, moving her legs, even smiling at times. Smiling, even in her condition. I told you...real live super-hero. Anyway, as I held her hand, I leaned in and said " Mom, can you hear me?" She shook her head yes. I asked, "can you understand what I'm saying to you?" Again, she nodded yes. I explained everything to her and asked,   " Do you want me to tell them to do the tracheotomy so you can breathe?" She shook her head no. Tears immediately filled in my eyes. She just looked at me, it was a look that I think only a parent and child can understand. Though she couldn't vocalize it, I FELT her say "I'm either going to do this on my own or not at all." Sobbing, I promised her I wouldn't do anything she didn't want me to do. I advised the medical team of her decision. The remaining decision of when to remove the vent would fall to on my shoulders. After discussing it with family and the medical team the decision was made to take her off the vent on Friday 2/11/22. That morning, I received a call from my brother Brice. (Mom didn't have any other biological children, but Brice's dad and my mom were together from the time I was in 2nd grade until I was in my early 20's. To this day, we still call each other brother, because well, we are brothers.) Brice said to me, "Bunk (a nickname in my family) for your own sanity and for mine, make sure this is truly what she wants." I can still hear his voice crack and shake a bit, as we cried on the phone together. He and I were on the same page. I was thinking the same. The day before, Brice had come to the hospital to see mom. He and I talked about just how cognizant she was of what was going on. He remarked how surprised he was at how responsive she was to commands and questions. He was right, which is why this was all so much harder. Mom was there, her mind was there, it was her body that was giving out. Not long after hanging up with Brice, I headed to the hospital. My grandmother, my fiancé Monica, and I were all at mom's bedside. Once again, I asked her about the tracheotomy. For a second time, she shook her head no. I found myself reiterating the very same promise I had made to her just days prior. I said, "Ok Mom. I love you. I won't do anything you don't want me to do." On Friday 2/11/22 at 5:25pm they took her off the ventilator tube. Just days prior, when sharing mom's decision with the nurses, they advised me the likelihood is she won't be able to breathe on her own. I told them I understood, most importantly so did mom. However, when the removed the tube, she did breathe on her own. In fact, she fought like hell from 5:25pm to just after 3AM on 2/12/22. Mom was at peace. Me and the rest of the family not so much. In researching her insurance situation, including life insurance, I found she has a small life insurance policy. However, she had in recent years borrowed against that policy. This was unbeknownst to me. In speaking with my grandmother, she told me mom borrowed the money to give to my son when he went to college. She wanted to contribute to his tuition, books, etc. The first thought that popped in my head was what she said to me years ago about going without. She literally lived up to that to her dying day. So, now I find myself in the position of not wanting but truly NEEDING to ask for help. Mom had no other insurance as her medical history and financial situation precluded her from being able to secure additional life insurance. For me, this is extremely hard. I'm unable to do this last thing for her after all she has done for me and my son. I would consider myself a proud person, but pride be damned. This isn't about me. It's about doing what's right for mom. PERIOD. I hope you can find it in your heart and within your means to donate, no matter how much. Every little bit helps. Truly. If you are unable to donate, sharing this page so that it reaches other who may be able to help would be greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for taking the time to learn mom's story. God bless you and yours. And... if your mom is still with us, give her a call, tell her you love her while you still can.

 

Mom, I love you! One way or another, you'll get the funeral and service you deserve.

 

 

-Bill