Godspeed Gynnie, We Will Miss You

A couple of weeks ago, some of my kinmates and I were preparing a run through Great Barrow.  We had a group of five that could handle completing the instance, but I tossed out an advertisement in LFF anyway for the last spot because I know there is always someone that wants to complete the quests and cannot find a group.  I quickly get a whisper from a Minstrel asking if she could join us.  I replied in the affirmative and shortly thereafter we are all having a relaxed and grand old time with the Wights.  About halfway through the instance, our new friend says that she is sorry but will have to go AFK because the “doctor has come to my room”.  She puts me on follow and we continue, but of course the rest of us are wondering what circumstances brings someone to playing LOTRO while a hospital patient.  She returns after a short while, apologizing profusely for the inconvenience.  We tell her “No Worries!” and continue.  After the run, one of our group members (and our kin leader) continues a private conversation with her and learns that she is 20 years old, her mother died when she was young, her father is not involved in her life, she has no other close friends or family, and is a hospice patient with Stage 4 bone cancer.  Her doctor tells her that she has maybe two months left.

Our kin leader communicated this information to us, and being a kind hearted sort, speaks to her again the next day and invites her to join our kin.  She accepts and brings her hunter, Gynnie, into our family.  We all try to be as friendly and upbeat as we can whenever she logs on, hoping to bring a little sunshine into an otherwise gloomy world.  Gynnie and our kin leader strike up a fast friendship and he spends some time chatting with her each day, mostly to let her share her pains with someone.  Also, one of our kin officers that had a house next to the kin house gave it to Gynnie since he was planning to upgrade to a deluxe house anyway.  She was very excited to be a part of the kin and a resident of our neighborhood

Now, let me confess something right now.  Although I am not proud of the fact, I am quite often cynical of new people, particularly those with hard-luck stories.  Surely, someone wouldn’t lie about something as grave as this.  However, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that an attention starved teen drama queen could play a game like this thinking that no one will get hurt because it all takes place in the imaginary digital world.  For the time being I would take her story at face value, but I would watch carefully for inconsistencies/inaccuracies in her story.  I REALLY should lighten up sometimes.

Gynnie asked our kin leader if he wanted to be added to her Oncology Advisory Update List (or something like that), to which he agreed.  From what I gather, it is a system that provides information about her condition and treatment schedule via email or other means.  Gynnie’s nurse also commented that since our kin leader had taken an interest in her life, she had been more willing to cooperate with her treatment.  This past Wednesday night, the kin leader asked some of us to be online Thursday evening because Gynnie was going to have a very painful treatment and wanted to know someone was available for her to talk to (he had a previous engagement, would be on, but later).  I wasn’t able to log on until about halfway through the four hour process, but Gynnie immediately began sending me tells, they seemed a little frantic, I guess because she was so scared.  I tried to calm her by telling her that I have a daughter almost the same age as her.  Here is the conversation paraphrased:

Gynnie:  “What would you do if your daughter were sick and dying like me?”

Me: “I would do everything possible to make her last days comfortable”

Silence.

Me: “If your Dad were involved in your life, what would you want him to do?”

Gynnie: “I would like to hear that he cared that I was sick, that he would tell me he wouldn’t forget me.”

Me: “A father isn’t required for that, a friend can do that “

Gynnie: “But a father should offer “
Gynnie: “and mine never will”

She would also tell me many times that the treatment was horrible and she couldn’t do it anymore.  I was at a loss for what to say…”Sure you can!”?  Easy for me to say when I’m not the one going through it.  Or, “Yeah, you’re right.” ?  That’s not what she needed either.  I finally settled for, “I’m sorry you are having to go through this.  I’ve been praying for you.”  Finally, our kin leader logged on and she began to talk with him (don’t blame her, I wasn’t much help or comfort).

Friday and Saturday night were largely incident free as Gynnie mostly spent time talking with our kin leader.  Gynnie did whisper me to apologize for “dragging you all into my problems” and disrupting our playing time.  I told her that she was a friend and therefore could not be considered a nuisance.  Then she brought it up again, “I know I am going to die alone, I just don’t want to be forgotten”.  I replied that I have a stellar memory and  promised to never forget her.  This seemed to comfort her a bit and she didn’t bring it up again.

Sunday afternoon she logged in briefly without really saying much.

Sunday night things went South.  Gynnie logged in (with help from her hospice nurse) and immediately got in a group with her new best friend (kin leader).  Not too much later, he posts a message in kin chat to the effect of “Gynnie is not able to type, but she wants to say goodbye to everyone.  If you want to reply, now is the time.”  Wow.  So it’s time.  Everyone that is on posts as comforting a message as possible and Gynnie’s nurse reads them to her.  Then the kin leader says, “She wants to leave her character at her house, I’m explaining to the nurse how to get her there.”  I respond, “meet ya there!” and clicked on my travel to Kin House ability.  But I wasn’t the first one to arrive.  Another officer was sitting in her yard when I arrived, two more kin mates came in right behind me.  In a moment the kin leader and Gynnie were in front of us.  The nurse (God bless her), held the laptop up so Gynnie could see us with her at her house.  Prayers and words of love were typed in kin chat, the nurse reading them to Gynnie as her heart went into an arrythmia and she drifted away.  At 7:20 pm PST, she left us and went to rest with God.

And there we were, stunned in Falathorn Homesteads.  Gynnie had given everyone in the kinship maintenance privileges to her house for us to do with it what we will.  Our will is to keep that house as hers for as long as we play, and plant pretty flowers in her yard.  Everytime we run through her yard, it will say “Home of Gynnie”, and we will remember her.  And that’s what she wanted. Maybe this blog will be around for years to come and someone will read it and learn about Gynnie, helping to make sure she isn’t forgotten.

Dying young is tragic enough, but dying alone is even worse.  I am thankful that we were able to be there (albeit virtually) and provide a little comfort during her last days, but what if she hadn’t met us?  It roils my stomach to think of it.  Go hug your loved ones and thank God you have them.

(Gynnie is the one facing the house)

UPDATE 06/23/09:

Good news and bad news.  The good news is “Gynnie” didn’t die after all.  The bad news is my cynicism about people has again been vindicated.  The girl in the video is NOT “Gynnie”, and probably has no idea that this was taking place.  Therefore I have removed all references to her from this blog post.  I have chosen to leave this blog post largely intact because it’s purpose is to chronicle my adventures in LOTRO, and that means both good and bad.  This has been a difficult experience and I hope that it doesn’t cause others to be callous in the event that they have contact online with someone who claims to be sick, but maybe they will do more fact checking than we did.  Apparently this is a fairly common occurance.  My kin acted completely in good faith and from the bottom of our hearts, so we have nothing to be ashamed of and I am proud to call them friends.