Warm Bath
Stella Ravenfield lay in the bed in the hospice center waiting to die. She hated what had become of her life and hated even more the thought of leaving her precious family behind. She wasn't quite fifty years old and the news she received from her doctor's appointment eight months earlier wasn't good.
"Cancer," Dr. Hatfield said while shaking his head. He held the open folder with the results in his hand, a frown on his face. Stella grabbed for Rob's hand and held it tightly. She hadn't been feeling well for a while. The fatigue grew worse until her daughter Tammy insisted she see a doctor. She had gone a full four months with the symptoms before she had done anything about it. Stella thought it was just the season of her life for her body to start reacting the way that it was. She had pain in her lower abdomen along with the fatigue. But it was unnatural because the fatigue was mind-numbing.
"It's stage four ovarian cancer. We need to run more tests to see if it's spread." Dr. Hatfield went on explaining what the next steps would be but Stella tuned him out and her thoughts rested on one thing only, she was going to die. Stage four normally meant end stages and nothing much to be done.
The next month resulted in a surgery to do a complete hysterectomy. The doctors didn't have good news though. The cancer had spread to the surrounding lymph glands. After that the family had to have time to digest the news and deal with the implications of cancer. Stella, once vibrant and active, became a statistic to cancer, reduced to living her life in between treatments, recovery from the treatments, and more treatments. The doctors didn't hold out much hope because the cancer had spread.
The last scan showed it in her breasts, her brain, and her bones. Stella opted to do nothing more so that she could live her last days with as much dignity as possible. She didn't want to lose her life, but now that she had been moved into a hospice she knew the end drew near. Yet she hung on longer than anyone had expected.
Stella made herself at home while getting to know the hospice nurses who doted on her every whim. When they first moved her to the hospice care center she chose to not look in a mirror. The last time she looked in the mirror she was horrified at what she saw. She was a shell of herself, having lost over fifty pounds, her face gaunt with the illness like skin stretched over a skeleton, her eyes dark and sunken and her hair gone. Stella hoped by stopping the horrid treatments some of her hair would grow back. She wanted her family, her husband Ray and four children, to have a better parting memory of her. Ray promised her hair was growing back, but he didn't have the same convincing lift in his voice as he had earlier.
The first days after the news were filled with hopeful talk and the belief that she could beat this beast that had descended upon her. But soon after the treatments had taken their toll, the family had to take turns helping her. Stella knew she didn't need to fight, but to give in and let nature take its course.
Stella and Ray had the perfect family, with two sons and two daughters. Now she had five grandchildren and a life still worth living, if only her body would behave. Lately, the children gathered daily, keeping vigil. Stella had begun to feel normal, in her mind. She couldn't make her body behave, so she quit trying. She tried to smile and reassure everyone that she was going to be just fine.
"What can we do for you Miss Stella," the hospice nurse would ask.
Stella managed a small smile. "I'd like a nice warm bath please," she said, her mouth feeling like cotton again.
The nurse chuckled. "You know I can't give you a bath, I'll bring in a basin and wash you off."
"But I just want a warm bath," Stella said. To her she sounded convincing but in reality her voice was barely heard, her weakness so obvious.
"I tell you what, I'll give you a bath as soon as they let me," the nurse said. This satisfied Stella as she managed a small smile before nodding off. The past few days she had felt so tired, more tired than she had ever felt in her entire life. Yet on some level she felt just fine. The blackness of sleep was welcomed; she'd come to and feel the ice cold air and stickiness of her skin rubbing against the sheets. Her daughter Amy insisted the sheets were ultra-soft but to Stella they felt like sandpaper.
"It's her skin, her organs are shutting down, and her skin is thin and delicate. She's feeling sensitive all over," the nurse told Amy and Marge.
Stella shut her eyes, wanting to rest. She slept and slept. She dreamed of her family crying, her daughters and sons, their spouses and Ray. She heard them cry and heard them thanking God her fight was over.
I'm okay guys. Stella struggled to wake up to tell them. When she woke up she felt so relaxed. Warmth surrounded her and she moved, and heard the water splash. She opened her eyes to see she was in a bath tub full of warm water, all the way to her chin. Her body relaxed. She smiled, enjoying the sensation. Ah, the warm bath I've wanted.
A slight knock at the door followed by the entrance of one of the nurses caused Stella to sit up slightly. She was not so modest after the long illness. The nurse had on a long white flowing coat of some sort. She looked odd. She must be new.
"How are you feeling, Stella?" the nurse asked.
Stella smiled. "Actually I haven't felt this good in a long time. In fact, I feel great. I'm sitting in a tub of warm water, what I've wanted for a long time. Does this mean? Does this mean I'm well?" Stella asked hopefully looking up at the lady.
"Yes, it means you are well. You are whole again. Doesn't it feel good?" the nurse asked as she pulled down a thick terry robe.
Stella sat up fully, noticing her legs and her arms were filled out. She no longer looked like a skeleton with skin, but had the plumpness of health back in her body. She smiled as she looked at her hands. No more bulging veins. No more cold clammy skin.
Stella took the hand the nurse extended and stood up. The nurse was polite and looked away as she handed the robe to her while she slipped it on over her wet body.
"Ready?" the nurse asked, smiling.
"I need to dress? Comb out my hair?" Stella asked.
"You're fine. You don't need to do those things. Come, you have an appointment to keep," the nurse said as she opened the door to the hallway.
Stella proceeded to follow her, figuring she'd be going back to her room and her family. She couldn't wait to see them, to see them seeing her feeling good again. She glanced at the mirror before leaving the bathroom and was startled at her appearance. She thought she'd still look gaunt but her face was full, healthy, almost glowing.
"Come," the nurse said.
Stella stepped out barefoot into a long, dim hallway. In fact, the hallway looked as if it went on forever. The brown print carpet was faded; she couldn't quite tell what it was supposed to be. But it felt soft and warm to her feet as she padded along. They walked and walked and Stella looked at the nurse, who had changed. She wore a long flowing robe, and her stature seemed to grow. Something was different about this person, about this long hallway.
"When will we reach my room?"
"Just a minute, we will arrive. This is a walk worth taking, trust me," the person said. They had transformed and Stella wasn't sure if they were a man or a woman. Stella's arms, back, and neck flashed with goosebumps as she heard a melodic sound coming from a set of huge double doors up ahead. Light beams emanated from underneath and around the edges of the door.
The person paused just outside the doors and smiled warmly to Stella. "Ready?" they said with such authority Stella actually swayed backward.
Where am I? Though she began to suspect, the doors slowly, ever so slowly edged opened. The sound of the singing grew louder, with a booming sound, the colors, the lights, Stella almost fell backwards. An intense cry shuddered throughout her body as she stepped from the brown carpeting onto pure translucent gold. Her terry robe had transformed into the same type of gown the angel wore.
"Am I?" Stella managed to say, feeling the tears flood into her eyes. The angel just smiled and nodded.
Presently a being came forward, shining bright as light; it emanated throughou
t his very being. His intense blue eyes stared right into her very soul. He smiled warmly and held out his nail-scarred hands. His feet bore the same scars. Stella burst into a full-blown cry as she looked upon this man, her Savior. She fell to her knees and then to her face before the Lord of Lords and King of Kings. Nothing else in the world mattered except for Him. All else faded, the worry about her family, the thought of recovering, the cancer, it was all gone. She had walked through the gates of Heaven and was lying prostrate at the feet of Jesus Christ.
"My daughter, rise," He said. She looked up, tears streaming down her face as the Lord held out His hand to her in a brilliant stance. She grasped it and he effortlessly pulled her back to her feet.
Compulsion got the best of Stella for she dared ask. "May I?" and he nodded.
She flew into His arms and He held her while she felt all the love he had for her. It seemed an eternity that he held onto her and not only until she released did he let go. "Come, wait at the throne," He said, His voice of command and authority unlike any other beautiful voice she had ever heard.
For a brief moment she remembered her family still left behind. The Lord didn't wait for her to voice it for He knew her thoughts. "Look, there," He said and pointed to the same gates she had just entered. In the blink of an eye she watched as her loved ones, her husband,