‘ BEVS’ BATTLE’

 Beverly, known to all as Bev, is a friend of mine and has been for many years. We met in Falmouth, Nova Scotia. Our daughters were best friends, the same age, and it followed that Bev and I would become friends and as the girls grew and shared their lives, we shared ours as well. My birth year is 1948, hers is 1942, so we had age in common, being babies of the forties. A friendship between Bev and me is a bond of two totally different personalities. Bev is quiet spoken, I am opinionated and vocal, Bev was a greenhouse worker, a drugstore clerk and finally a school bus driver for twenty-four years. Something I know I could never do is grow nice flowers like she did, or be trusted to drive a school bus. I am a nurse, with a passion for photography and writing. Bev lived near all sorts of family, I was far away from mine, she was an only child, I was the oldest of five, but we became friends and the differences faded away. It was always a joy for me to spend a few minutes with her, she seemed to be so well grounded, so kind, and my daughter loved her dearly. And we adored her daughter, Jenny, nicknamed Jenny Piccolo by my husband who obviously watched ‘Happy Days’ on Television. Bev has a son and two daughters and her husband was a fine finish carpenter. I have a son and a daughter and my husband was in law enforcement. Bev had a great faith, I tend to be cynical, but after a chat with Bev I always feel more positive. She was and is an outstanding person, wife, mother, grandmother, worker and friend.

    Bev grew up in the area in which we lived, and was known by all for her community work and her readiness to help in times of distress. She worked at the fruit and vegetable stand in the summer and scooped up the greatest ice cream cones. Her husband was also from the area that was the gateway to the Annapolis Valley and their families were well established in the town. We worked, raised our families, and our lives paralleled. When my daughter married, Jenny was in the bridal party. Then in 2000, I left Nova Scotia and returned to Newfoundland, saying a fond farewell to my old friends in that beautiful province. I was moving back to my homeland to retire.

    In March 2001, my daughter mailed to tell me Bev had become ill. It was a shock to everyone because it just seemed that Bev would always be busy, working two jobs at times, and she seemed invincible. But now Bev was under attack, vulnerable and ill, getting weaker daily. And the cause of her illness was not known.

    It started with her stumbling several times getting on the bus, and she had noticed that she was weak and uncoordinated. She limped and did not know why or what was happening to her. Finally she was sent by her doctor to a specialist in Halifax. She returned with the diagnosis of Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis or ‘Lou Gehrigs’ Disease’ in May of 2002.Now Bev found herself swirling in a vortex of frailty and fear, her life spiraling out of her control, having had to leave her job in January of 2002 she felt adrift. She began to study this disease that was robbing her of her independence and changing her life completely. She soon found out that ALS, as it is commonly known, is a progressive disease of the nerves coming from the spinal cord responsible for supplying electrical stimulation to the muscles of our body. The body becomes very weak, and the weakness leaves the person susceptible to other ailments, and dependent on others as the disease rages its’ war. ALS occurs most often in the fifth through seventh decade of life, and Bev and I are in our fifties. There is no known cause for this curse, and Bev felt her life becoming more out of control as she gradually went from the support of a cane to a walker, and then to a wheelchair. Then a gradual acceptance enveloped her. Her courage came bubbling to the surface, and she got on with life as it was for her, knowing a great storm was ahead. I was grief stricken for her, and being far away made it worse. Bevs’ friends all took up the challenge of learning more about ‘Lou Gehrigs Disease’. I learned that it is called by that name because the famous Lou Gehrig of baseball fame suffered from ALS as it is known. June is ALS month because Lou Gehrig retired from baseball in June, and when he died in 1941, it was also in June. The Blue Cornflower was chosen as a symbol for ALS because of its’ fragile appearance but yet hardy nature. It is native to Europe but grows in Canada as well, and is a humble reminder of the fullness of lifes’ cycle. Bev got a computer, learned more about her condition, and now knows the facts and the prognosis. . She keeps in touch with her friends and loved ones online. She loves her computer although her arms are weakening and some days it is difficult to type. I tell her not to try and answer my messages, it is not necessary, once a week or so is fine, I understand how difficult it is for her. She still tries very hard, like the cornflower, to survive, grow, and be strong.

A lift is being installed to make the transfer from her bed to a chair more efficient. The community is holding fund raisers to buy her a lift for her wheelchair that will enable her to board a vehicle. Her love of children is still strong. She had her wheelchair take her to the end of the driveway to see the children as they did a fund-raising walk for her, bringing tears to many as she smiled and waved, loving the little children she drove for so many years on the school buses.

    Her downhill progress is fast, her life has changed so much, yet she can tell me in an e-mail how fortunate she is to have such friends and family. She is, and always was, a gracious woman. She was in her wheelchair for the ALS walk last year and will be again this year if it is possible at all. She will be assisted by her daughter Jenny who has been a strength and a support to her mother, as is her sister Missy, and brother, Chris. And my daughter in Calgary will walk in the fund raiser this year, wearing a picture of Bev on her shirt. She loves Bev and wants to help. Jenny is the same. A tribute to the strength and determination of two young women that Bev and I raised to adulthood.

    We never know what life hold for us, and it is best we do not. We question the fairness of situations, the tragedy that befalls a person, but we have no answers. We do not know why Bevs’ husband had a major heart attack and then a few years later this very loving woman is becoming incapacitated. Our hearts ache for her, we shed tears for her, we shake our fist at the universe about her, and the strange part of it all is that it is Bev herself who comforts us. She has her photo on the ALS website, she will talk to anyone newly diagnosed, she has enormously strong faith and is so grateful for lifes’ little joys. Her soft quiet voice stills the broken hearts of her family, her gratitude makes us all want to fix it for her, but we cannot. She is still a young woman, a woman who worked very hard over her lifetime, a woman who loves being a grandmother but cannot take her grandchildren for walks, but is accepting her condition. She is a guiding light to all who know her. She is aware there is no cure, but she prays for just that, a cure for herself and others like her who are stopped suddenly in the best years of their lives.

    I went to the website and saw Beverley’ photo. On the ALS website I can see the same kind smile, same look of caring, and I can hear her saying "Let Heather stay Bonnie, she will be Ok with me." And I knew she would. So Heather would stay, and Bev would care for them keeping them safe from harm. Now they want to care for her. And they will do their best.

    As for me, I try to stay in touch. Bev touched my heart a long time ago. She has been a friend, and a support in difficult times, a patient of mine, a great listener and I have never seen her faith waver. I admire her, I love her, and I worry about her. She tells me her arms are weaker and I feel tears, she tells me how grateful she is for all of us in her life and my breath catches in my chest, she says she has to accept what she cannot change and I agree, because it is so, and I am sad. She sends me messages of hope and I am amazed at her courage and determination. Her attitude of determination and undeniable strength inspires me, makes me think how fortunate I am to be able to put on a pair of running shoes and grab a set of keys and run out the door, to drive where I want, to dress myself, and most of all she makes me realize that nothing in life should be taken for granted. It is all a great gift, and sometimes we do not appreciate what we have been given, the pleasures that the world around us offers.

    Yes, we are different in personalities, but we are women, mothers and grandmothers in our fifties, and we are now far apart in miles. But Beverly is not far away from my heart, as I think of her daily and send her photos and quotes and things I know she enjoys. She is a lesson to us all. She is Bev, she is ill, but she is a shining light and an inspiration to all who know her.

    I can close my eyes and remember driving home from work and meeting the school bus and the big smile of the lady driver directed my way, I remember the wonderful ice-cream cones she made, and most of all I remember a woman who graces my life. She teaches me hope as she copes with a battle that attacks her from all directions and has rearranged her life drastically. But Bevs’ battle will never destroy the quiet words of comfort she gives others, or change the caring person she was and will continue to be. ALS cannot destroy her soul.

    I pray for good things for her while she fights her illness. She is much adored and admired. We will support her as long as she needs us and we will always remember that big smile that lit up our lives on our rough days, the big smile that is still there for us in spite of the battle for her life she faces every day. She is a bright candle in what for her is a confusing and difficult world, and for that we are grateful. We will also spread the word of ALS, and the fight those people afflicted face daily and pray that a cure will be found, for Bev and those like her who have been assaulted by this tragic disease. We care for her dearly and want her to know. If you want to visit Bev go to March of Faces, and click on the March of Faces for Nova Scotia. There you will see the sweetest smile of a courageous woman named Beverly McCann who is fighting a battle for her life. Visit, say a quiet prayer for her and all those like her who suffer daily with ALS. And this June when the ‘Walk to D’Feet ALS’ gets underway, sponsor someone, remember the cornflower and remember the blossom that we call Bev.

    We love you Bev! Keep that bright light shining as you fight your daily challenges. We are with you and only a call away. And please do not lose that wonderful smile, the smile that will always bring warmth to our hearts. A bouquet of Cornflowers to you from me, and maybe science someday really will ‘D’Feet ALS’.