The Tribune

By DR KENNETH D KEMP

QUITE often when a loved one dies, it’s the silence of the loss and the regret of things left unsaid that cripples us. Then, as others leave us for the unknown, this grief, the words left unsaid and the hugs we intended but didn’t fulfill, add to our personal guilt, compounding the pain we feel from the loss itself.

My patient Joe (an alias) has learned over the years that death presents an echo chamber of self-amplified emotions. The fortunate are able to break free and move forward but they’re seized back into this vortex of grief and torment as the next loss occurs.

Seven of Joe’s close family members have been diagnosed with cancer and six have died from it. Today he shares his incredible story and the lessons he’s learned, hoping that others traversing their own trials may find solace and strength in his message.

Joe was born in Nassau, one of six children. His mother was born in Long Island and his father was born in Cat Island but they both moved to the capital in their teens to find work.

They eventually met working as straw vendors, married and had five sons and one daughter. Fifteen years into their marriage, Joe’s father left Nassau and moved to the US when a job opportunity came along. His mother travelled back and forth to visit him.

While she was away, Joe and his siblings were cared for by their maternal aunt, who lived with them and became a surrogate mother.

Joe recalls his childhood fondly. It was filled with a lot of love, play and a little mischief, he said with a smile. The family raised goats and chickens and they had a fruit and vegetable garden where Joe spent a lot of time with his father.

When he wasn’t engaged in gardening, he could be found either playing baseball or watching western movies and reenacting scenes with his brothers.

After high school, like most of his siblings, Joe travelled to the US to be with his father and was able to attend college. Once he graduated, he returned home to Nassau where he joined the police force, ultimately working in all divisions during his 40-year tenure with the RBPF.

On the force, he encountered thousands of people who were broken, unable to counter what life threw at them, falling prey or victim to the conditions of their environment and sliding down a dark path as a result.

What he witnessed daily - men and women, whose lives teetered on the edge, breathing but not living - prompted him, in spite of his many losses, to start saying thanks as a daily ritual for all his blessings.

When his maternal grandmother died in Long Island from cancer, Joe was still in his teens. Her death was painless and swift but Joe’s mother wasn’t as fortunate. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1992, the same year that her sister was diagnosed with lung cancer. Joe’s aunt initially had a stroke and while she was in the hospital being treated for that, anomalies in her blood work and diagnostic scans prompted further investigation. She chose not to treat her cancer and died within months of her diagnosis.

Reeling from the death of her beloved sister, Joe’s mother underwent a mastectomy and a course of chemotherapy so intensive that most days it outstripped the stamina of her legs. She’d crawl to her room and collapse in bed from fatigue.

The bouts of headaches, nausea and vomiting were so intense that eventually she stopped chemotherapy all together, feeling that the treatment was worse than the disease itself.

She travelled back and forth to the US, where her husband of 50 years stood by her side, brushing what little hair she had remaining and massaging her frail body.

Her cycle of remission and resurgence ended three years later. By that time, cancer had ravaged her entire body and she died in the hospital surrounded by her family.

When she died, Joe was faced with grief so profound he didn’t think such depth of sadness and loss was possible, a sinking sensation that made him feel like he was drowning in sorrow.

As years have passed and the scab has crusted, a wound still exists, just as deep as it is inoperable.

A little more than a decade after losing his wife, Joe’s father died from prostate cancer. His dad never fully recovered from his wife’s death and when he developed Alzheimer’s disease and his mind faded, he had to be placed in a senior care facility. Joe hopes that in death his parents were reunited and are still looking after one another as they had for so many years before.

Given the significant amount of death in their family as a result of cancer, in all its various forms, Joe’s sister had a mastectomy immediately once she discovered a lump in her breast. The prompt treatment saved her life.

Their older brother, however, never had the opportunity to act early because by the time he discovered that he was sick it was already too late. He worked in Oklahoma at a manufacturing facility, opting to stay in the US after moving there for college.

In his early 60s and after 20 years on the job, he began experiencing intense headaches that wouldn’t subside. He often felt weak and dizzy, particularly when standing after prolonged periods of rest. He attributed his nausea, vomiting and decrease in hearing to the flu and an ear infection.

When antibiotics and flu medication didn’t resolve his symptoms, he became increasingly agitated. When he started having seizures, his family became concerned. Doctors diagnosed him with an inoperable brain tumor and he died within the year.

Then, seven years ago, Joe’s younger brother began experiencing indescribably severe heartburn following meals coupled with fatigue and bloating.

He began to lose weight, notably in his face and midsection and when he noticed blood in his stool he panicked. By the time he was diagnosed, his cancer had spread from his colon to his stomach and kidneys.

Over the next five years, he underwent multiple surgeries interspersed between bouts of chemotherapy and radiation. But in 2021, after his system had become so nightmarishly toxic that the white of his eyes turned yellow, at the age of 56, he lost his battle and died in the hospital.

Heart disease and cancer are the leading causes of death amongst Bahamians. Incidence rates have increased almost across the board for cervix, colon and stomach cancers and exponentially so for breast and prostate cancers.

The cause for the increase has been widely speculated to be secondary to poor diet and lack of exercise. Given the scientifically corroborated evidence linking obesity (and the repeated consumption of processed foods with high sugar and high salt content) with a notably high risk for several types of cancers, this correlation appears remarkably more than speculative.

Whatever the cause and despite the passage of time, an entity he’s been told will heal all his wounds, Joe carries with him a lingering grief that even now, remains jarring and undeniably painful.

Not knowing what happens to your loved ones after death or if you’ll ever see them again is frightening.

Yet, today, there are moments of light. When he is working in his garden, he feels a connection with his parents, particularly his father and for a few moments as he is planting or harvesting, there is a sense of peace and fulfillment.

In those moments, Joe chooses to focus on the love that he receives from his wife and children and the countless ways that they’ve blessed and enriched his life.

After seeing what his parents and siblings endured, Joe’s also learned to be more aware of his own body and paying attention to any changes, no matter how subtle the initial manifestation may be. He encourages others to heed his warnings and do the same. He’s also incredibly close with his remaining siblings and they check on each more frequently now than in their childhood, recognising that no day is promised and without warning, life can change in an instant.

Your energy, he says, should never be focused on who you’ve lost but rather on who you have and what you can give those who are still with you and need your love.

This is the KDK Report.

• Nicknamed ‘The Prince of Podiatry’, Dr Kenneth D Kemp is the founder and medical director of Bahamas Foot and Ankle located in Caves Village, Western New Providence. He served as the deputy chairman for the Health Council for five years and he currently sits on the board of directors for the Princess Margaret Hospital Foundation in his role as co-vice-chairman.