299 Days: The Community

Chapter 101 I’m Going to Die (May 10)

The Over Road crew finished their pancakes and then it was time to go to work. Mary Anne asked Lisa to come with her to see Mrs. Roth. The night before, Rich asked the Team to come down to the gate in the morning and meet the gate guards. Drew was still working on inventorying things, and Eileen was working on food planning. She had also taken on the laundry duties. She hadn’t done much laundry in the past few years with just her and Drew in the house and, in a weird way, she missed it. She used the Morrell’s washer and dryer, and this gave her plenty of time to work with Mary Anne on gardening issues. They would sit in Mary Anne’s house in between loads of laundry and talk about food and gardening. Although not as glitzy as gunfighting, their work was invaluable.

Manda was watching Cole, and now Missy. Paul did guard duty and was going to start on metal fabrication. John and Mark would hunt and fish. Tammy had her day job at the power company and was getting lots of gas for that, which was a big plus. Out at Pierce Point, there was an order and even a rhythm; a new “normal.” It didn’t take long for hardworking people to figure out new things they needed to do.

On the short walk over to her house, Mary Anne told Lisa about all the canning supplies Mrs. Roth had donated.

They knocked, but there was no answer. They were worried something had happened, so they opened the unlocked door. They found Mrs. Roth in her “comfortable chair” in the living room.

“Sorry,” Mrs. Roth said. “I was too weak to answer. Forgive me.”

“Of course,” Mary Anne said. “I have good news. This is Dr. Matson. She can look at you.”

Lisa asked, “Mrs. Roth, are you OK?”

Mrs. Roth knew that it was time to tell her secret. It didn’t matter at this point, anyway. “Well, I have something called myasthenia gravis. It’s rare. Have you heard of it?”

Lisa had. It was very, very rare. It was when the body’s immune system interfered with the nerves controlling the voluntary muscles. It made it difficult to move and caused extreme fatigue. It even made it difficult to breathe because the chest muscles are weakened. Lisa thought she remembered that there was no known cure, but she hadn’t read about it since medical school over twenty years ago.

“Are you on any medications for it, Mrs. Roth?” Lisa asked.

“I take Mestinon which has the brand name of Pyridostigmine,” Mrs. Roth said. “I take a small pill every three hours and one big time-release one in the morning and at bedtime. I also take Cyclosporine and Cellcept. They’re immune system drugs. Do you know about myasthenia gravis?”

“Yes, a little,” Lisa said. She knew that Mrs. Roth needed to take her medications to live. “How much of them do you have?” Lisa asked.

“Oh,” Mrs. Roth said. “I’ve been out of them for a few days. I’m going to die,” she said with a slight smile.

“What?” Mary Anne said, shocked. “You’re out? You need to get a refill.”

“No, I don’t,” Mrs. Roth said calmly. “My son comes once a week and brings me refills. He is stuck in Seattle. Can’t get onto I-5. He said the pharmacy is out of most of my medicines, anyway. He called a few days ago all worried about me. He’s a good boy. I told him not to worry. I told him I had lots of extra medicine because someone out here is a pharmacist and got me several months of supply, which wasn’t true. I hate to tell a white lie to my own son, but he has a family and needs to be worrying about them instead of me.”

Mrs. Roth took a breath. It was hard. She continued, “No, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be a bother. And, besides, I knew on May Day when everything started to fall apart that this would happen. I’ve been living with the knowledge that if there was a disaster and the stores closed…it would be time for me to go.”

Mrs. Roth took another difficult breath and smiled. “It’s all right. Really, it is. I know where I’m going and…” She looked up, “It’s so, so much better there than down here.” She was beaming.

“Really, don’t worry about me,” she said. Please don’t,” she said as if the thought of anyone worrying about her caused her pain.

“Now,” Mrs. Roth said, perking up, “tell me about the canning you’re getting done and tell me about the soldiers. I remember when we had soldiers living in houses near us in Tacoma, right by Ft. Lewis, during the war,” she said referring to World War II. “They seemed so old to me because I was just a girl, but I saw pictures of them later and they looked so young.”

Lisa and Mary Anne didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t worth coming up with a plan to get the medicine. There probably wasn’t a dose of any of her medicines in the entire state, and it would be impossible to get to where the medicine was without a military helicopter. Mrs. Roth knew she was going to die and she was OK with it. There was nothing to do. It happens to everyone, eventually.

“There is one thing you can do for me, Mary Anne,” Mrs. Roth said.

“Of course, what?” Mary Anne asked.

“When my muscles won’t move anymore, I won’t be able to breathe. It’s already hard now. I don’t mind dying, but it will be scary to not be able to breathe. I’d like someone here with me when it happens. I don’t want any pain drugs or anything—you probably don’t have any out here—but I do want someone around. And I want to tell my stories to someone. I have a lot of time to think all day and to remember. I want someone around. Could you be here?”

Mary Anne started to cry. Lisa didn’t; she’d seen enough tragedy in the ER that things like this didn’t affect her like the first time she saw someone about to die.

“Don’t cry, hon. Don’t cry,” Mrs. Roth said. She was having trouble breathing again. She struggled to put up her hand for Mary Anne to hold. They stayed there for about twenty minutes. Mrs. Roth started to breathe well again. “Thank you, hon,” she said, her voice very weak. “Doctor, you’re welcome to stay, but I bet you have lots of patients to see. I appreciate what you’re doing for everyone out here. But all I need is for Mary Anne to stay.”

Lisa had never been kicked out by a patient. “Of course, Mrs. Roth,” Lisa said. “If you change your mind and need any medical help, tell Mary Anne and I’ll come and do all I can. Thank you again for all you’ve done for us out here. Mary Anne tells me the canning supplies and knowledge are invaluable. We will never forget you.”

Mrs. Roth smiled. It was the deepest, warmest, most satisfied smile they’d ever seen.

Lisa left. She’d watched so many people die, but this felt different. It would be the first death out there. But, she knew it wouldn’t be the last. That was the part that scared her the most.