Marriage in ICU brings solace in cancer patient's last days
With a nurse as flower girl and cake from the hospital kitchen, Caleb Hanby, who has a rare jaw cancer, married his love at Vanderbilt’s ICU.
Editor's note: Caleb Hanby died Thursday morning surrounded by his family, friends and new wife. Below is their story.
She carried a bouquet of yellow sunflowers, white carnations and red roses. He had a single red rose.
It rested on top of his white hospital gown, rising and falling to the rhythm of his labored breath.
“We’re celebrating love today,” the minister began, “… it's a beautiful thing, and it's a useful thing."
“It gives hope, it gives us confidence. And it gives us a reason.”
Even as Caleb Hanby, 28, faced the final days of his life, love was all the reason he needed. It compelled him to marry his fiancee, Bethany, 26, in the intensive care unit at Vanderbilt University Medical Center a week ago.
Family members gathered around Caleb’s hospital bed, finding space between the heart monitor and IV machine in the small room. His nurse — acting as the flower girl — sprinkled white petals on the floor. His doctor was the ring bearer.
And Bethany, with her amber-colored hair in a braid over her shoulder, intertwined the fingers of her left hand with Caleb’s. The hand that would soon be wearing a wedding ring.
Even close to the end of life, there are moments worth living for.
Before he got sick, Caleb Hanby stood tall. A 6-foot-3 frame that carried a fit 220 pounds, along with a full beard and head of short, but thick, brown hair. Rarely was he without his navy blue Detroit Tigers baseball cap, which he wore backward.
As a front desk manager at Prairie Life Fitness, Bethany noticed the good-looking personal trainer immediately that February one year ago. But strong and athletic as he was, he also was quiet and shy. That made him hard to get to know.
Their first meaningful interaction didn't come until months later, on a July night out celebrating her birthday. She walked into Tin Roof on Demonbreun with some co-workers and noticed Caleb underneath a bright light.
“We weren’t away from each other the whole night,” Bethany remembers.
Watch video of the wedding ceremony. Story continues after video.
Soon, that extended to whole days. They would watch Michigan football games on Saturday, and cheer on the Chiefs and Lions on Sundays. He took her to the Nashville Armory and taught her to shoot guns. They worked out together, pushing strength training sleds across the floor.
When he started spending 12-hour days at Prairie Life, hanging around even when he didn't have clients, that's when Bethany knew he cared.
“I wanted him around me all the time,” she says.
But soon, she would wonder if he would be.
The pain began in his jaw, masking itself like a toothache. Caleb stood in the atrium at work last September, rubbing his left cheek with his finger and complaining of discomfort. Bethany persuaded him to go to the dentist.
The original diagnosis was TMJ, a painful but seemingly unalarming jaw issue. But the small mass beneath his skin was much more.
The first time Bethany met Caleb's parents, they stood together in the doctor's office where a biopsy would unveil rhabdomyosarcoma, a rare cancer that usually begins in the muscles or tendons. It also was the first day Caleb introduced Bethany to anyone as his girlfriend.
That was one year — and many rounds of chemotherapy and radiation therapy — ago. But the cancer resisted treatment. The tumor grew, breaking his jaw bone. And despite the everyday joys they pursued, including planning an October wedding, the disease progressed faster than the couple expected.
In the early morning hours last Thursday, Caleb began struggling to breathe, and they sped to Vanderbilt. While emergency physicians placed Caleb on oxygen, Bethany absorbed the reality that she could lose him before their wedding day, which was just weeks away.
Over just a few hours, they put together a ceremony with the ICU staff’s support. Mary Ann George, a medical receptionist for the unit, called the gift shop to arrange for a bouquet. She reached out to the hospital kitchen, requesting a wedding cake. She even called her mother to photograph the event.
When the wedding began, Dr. Todd Rice, the attending physician for the unit that day, walked into the room carrying two rings from the hospital gift shop. Lauren Hill, a nurse on the unit, came with him, showering the floor with flower petals.
Finally, Bethany, escorted by her mother, walked into the room with the lyrics of Train’s “Marry Me” playing in the background. In her pale green hooded sweatshirt, she took her place alongside Caleb’s bed. After the two exchanged rings, Bethany looked toward her husband.
“Hey, handsome," she began. "I can honestly say that I have waited for this day my entire life. The day I get to become your wife. ... You’ve taught me more about love in this last year than I ever thought was possible. You complete me, and you will always hold the biggest piece of my heart.
"I am honored to have you as my husband. No matter how much time we have together you will always be the love of my life.”
After the ceremony, they enjoyed the two-tiered coconut and chocolate cake, with white frosting and purple icing flowers.
The question at times has surfaced from others: “Why stay when it could all end in heartbreak?”
“Honestly,” Bethany says. “It was never a decision to me.
“We didn’t want to get married because we had to. It was because we wanted to.”
On Monday night, a few days after the ceremony, Caleb moved to Alive Hospice. On Tuesday, the care staff helped the couple secure their official marriage certificate because Caleb couldn't visit the courthouse himself.
“I think he’s been holding on,” their bridesmaid and best friend Brittney Woodard said. He had been waiting, she believed, until their marriage was official.
On Wednesday, the license sat on a table in his room, and Caleb could rest a little easier. On the foot of his bed, the couple's dog, a white Maltese Shih Tzu mix named KC snuggled near his feet. On the wall hung a red superhero cape. Caleb wore a superman shirt.
“It’s because he's our hero," his mom, Michelle Hanby, says. "He’s been fighting so hard. He’s so strong."
In all love, there’s also some pain. And that’s part of the beauty of it. Even at the end of life, there are moments worth living.
As Caleb’s breathing again became labored in the early hours of Wednesday afternoon, Bethany immediately went to his side — to the place where she had become most comfortable.
Reach Jessica Bliss at 615-259-8253 and on Twitter @jlbliss.
Support the couple
A Go Fund Me page was started for Caleb Hanby to help support his medical bills. To donate visit: www.gofundme.com/CalebHanby.
Funeral arrangements for Caleb Hanby
A funeral service for Caleb Hanby will be held in Tennessee and a burial service in Cass City, Mich. Final arrangements are not complete. To send condolences to the family visit the Prayers for Caleb page on Facebook.