Gone Too Soon: Nawnly Judith Brutus

Nawnly Judith Brutus

1974 - 2014

For the sake of clarification, let me say that I have learned from the Word of God to define family as a group of persons who have been granted the grace of choosing to commit to their kinship out of selfless love as opposed to merely acknowledging the commonly accepted mandates of birth, blood, adoption, or marriage. Being the youngest of my family, I have never had any reason to think of anyone of my siblings (by birth, adoption, or faith) as anything other than a full brother or sister. And so, Nawnly Judith was always my sister -- beloved, cherished, and treasured -- in life as she now is in this dark hour.

Her soul departed her body around 4 p.m. EST at Holy Cross Hospital in Fort Lauderdale, FL on the 21st day of July 2014.

Many have penned, called, and shared their utter shock and dismay upon receiving the news of my sister's recent passing. To be sure, I understand and appreciate the concerns that have been voiced:

"She was so young."
"She was so beautiful."
"She was so very gifted."
"She was so compassionate."

In the end, death is no respecter of youth, beauty, giftedness, or compassion; it preys on the unsuspected and snatches the life out of wise or fool from one molecule to the next. Still, in response to hundreds of questions, I find myself in the position of wanting to relay a bit of perspective on this unfortunate fait accompli.

I remember eight months ago this very night, my brother Simon Serleus was abducted, tortured, and assassinated. Two days later, grief-stricken Nawnly Judith called me to inform me that her oncologist thought there was some life-threatening activity in her body. I decided then and there that I would leave my duties in Oklahoma for a while to further investigate the doctor's statement.

Cancer.

My first visit to Holy Cross had the effect of a cold shower on my system. I learned right away that I was facing a truly fierce opponent in her disease despite my sister's generous smile and upbeat nature. Visit after visit, waiting room after waiting room, seeing doctor after doctor who may or may not be able to help her rare and aggressive cancer, I simply found myself struggling. My mind was at war with my heart -- I knew what I knew and I knew what I desired. Through the internal war, however, God beckoned me to be still so He could teach me . . .

And as He taught, my questions led me to find out that it really began in September of 2012 when she first felt a small lump in her left breast. An overachiever like her brother, she kept herself too busy to dwell upon it too much. The lump was further overshadowed by an overloaded work schedule, our parents' 50th anniversary celebration in Fort Worth, TX, a big competition, a concert sponsored by her budding company Music & Arts, Inc., our father's death, and an altogether frenetic Fall 2012 season. In October 2012, she became aware of an increasing discomfort causing her to alter her lifelong habit of sleeping on her stomach. It gradually deteriorated though no one knew of her condition.

On December 24, 2012, Nawnly Judith was on her way home from work when she began experiencing some pain in her left breast deemed much more acute. She made it home, took a shower, but then decided to drive to the hospital, and checked herself in. Her ER visit in Coral Springs, FL ended up being a 6-day stay. It was there that she was first diagnosed with cancer.

At the beginning of January 2013, she began receiving health treatments at Holy Cross -- an excellent Catholic HealthCare provider -- and underwent surgery to install a port in preparation for the eventual chemo treatments intended for her left breast. She was then diagnosed with advanced left breast invasive ductal carcinoma triple negative.

If you are anything like me, you will likely not understand the diagnosis. So, allow me to enlighten you:

That long name means serious business. It is medical code for a type of cancer testing negative for estrogen, progesterone, and hormone-receptive protein. Again, that means, this type of cancer has no estrogen receptors, no progesterone receptors, and barely expresses hormone receptivity. Since most breast cancer treatments rely on the above three elements for any hope of recovery, the only treatment option for my dear sister was a combination of surgery and radiation therapy bookended by chemotherapy, a combination which oncologists warn may or may not work for this rare disease. Statistics are quite low in terms of survival rate.

Not easily discouraged, Nawnly Judith decided to enter the battle. In the spring of 2013, she underwent six cycles of highly concentrated TAC chemotherapy that ended in May 2013. Being young and vibrant, her body responded very well to the chemo. Of course, her experience was not unlike most cancer patients -- hair loss, extreme fatigue, etc. -- but the oncologist was hopeful especially with an ensuing bilateral mastectomy (the surgical removal of both breasts) at the close of treatment. For reasons far too painful for me to explain, that option did not materialize.

October 2013 came with increased pain and concern, which drew my sister to contact Holy Cross again. Upon establishing that the original 2.4 cm tumor had returned and grown to 13 cm in size, the surgeon aptly removed the left breast and nine lymph nodes that were malignant. However, at the time of the operation, the surgeon spotted what are called positive margins (points of living cancer cells that are outside the range of the targeted area). In other words, the surgery could not take all of the cancer out -- and that certainly became a definite issue of concern.

It was at that point that her illness reached a critical stage. Her pain grew more and more intense on a daily basis. The once unflinching woman turned into someone who could no longer handle listening to test results or other medical options, leading me to become her spokesperson. For the remaining seven months of her life, God used me to engage in on-going conversations with the team of doctors, nurses, and supportive staff members assigned to her care.

Having spent grueling moments with her at the hospital and at home, I can say that Nawnly was by far the most courageous patient I have ever seen. She was a born fighter and she gave her absolute best to combat her cancer.

Yet her last sixteen hours on earth were her absolute hardest. Not feeling well, she was taken to the ER and was admitted in the wee hours of July 21. Her moaning and restlessness, picked up from the phone as I talked with her healthcare providers, will forever remain etched in my memory. Shortness of breath, low blood pressure, dropping platelets, and other medical complications combined their efforts to snatch away her precious breath -- that sine qua non element of her spark and song.

Her last earthly breath occurred at 4:00 pm EST.
Her first heavenly breath occurred outside the constraints of time.

So, of course, she was young, beautiful, gifted, and compassionate. Of course, she looked fine, healthy, vibrant, and upbeat. But the cancer never stopped working against her, though undetected by others. I wonder how many others are suffering silently and imperceptibly even now. May we remember that death lurks about seeking unsuspecting souls to devour. Would you and I be ready to meet this all too often unwelcome guest?

Nawnly Judith Brutus was ready because she gave her heart to Christ.

What a valiant warrior!
Cancer may seem to have won this round but the war has been won by Christ.
My sister flew to Jesus free, utterly free, completely cancer-free, and I am ecstatic!