sufferingworthwhile.Thepeaksareimportant,andsois
the ending.
JewelDouglassdidn’tknowifshewaswillingtofacethe
suffering that surgery might inflict on her and feared
beingleftworseoff.“Idon’twanttotakeriskychances,”
shesaid,andbythat,Irealized,shemeantthatshedidn’t
want to take a high-stakes gamble on how her story
wouldturnout.Ontheonehand,therewassomuchshe
stillhopedfor,howeverseeminglymundane.Thatvery
week, she’dgone to church,drivento thestore, made
family dinner, watcheda television show with Arthur,
had her grandson come to her for advice, and made
weddingplanswithdearfriends.Ifshecouldbeallowed
tohaveevenalittleofthat—ifshecouldbefreedfrom
whathertumorwasdoingtohertoenjoyjustafewmore
suchexperienceswiththepeoplesheloved—shewould
bewillingtoendurealot.Ontheotherhand,shedidn’t
want to chance a result evenworse than the one she
alreadyfacedwithherintestinescinchedshutandfluid
fillingherabdomenlikeadrippingfaucet.Itseemedasif
there were no way forward. But as we talked that
Saturdaymorninginherhospitalroom,withherfamily
around her and the operating room standing by
downstairs, I came to understand she was telling me
everything I needed to know.
We should go to surgery, I told her, but with the
directionsshe’djustspelledout—todowhatIcouldto
enablehertoreturnhometoherfamilywhilenottaking
riskychances. I’dput in asmall laparoscope.I’d look
around.AndI’dattempttounblockherintestineonlyifI
sawthatIcoulddoitfairlyeasily.Ifitlookeddifficult