4 to 6...Cancer #7

This one is from the 10th of Sept.

Dad's home. His breathing is labored and he was swelling up last night. His face, neck, arms, well, everything was swollen. The tumor is putting pressure on blood vessels going from his heart to his brain and back. This causes bloating, among other things. His voice is raspy and he coughs so hard I'm surprised his diseased lung doesn't come flying out...wouldn't that be nice. This tumor is entangled in vocal cords, blood vessels, his esophagus, two main arteries, and the top of his right lung. He can't take 5 steps without needing something to hold on to and oxygen from a tank. This is one of the single most horrific things I have ever gone through to date. I can’t even imagine what he must be going through. My dad is, was, a very physically strong man. Biker tough guy, until HE ALLOWED smoking to take that away from him. I say these things, because if you smoke I’m going to ask you to quit. “Who are you?”, you might ask. I am a grown ass woman who is nothing but a broken child faced with her fathers premature death, that’s who I am. This is quite possibly a completely avoidable series of events. The risks are real, and it can happen to you. The doctor told me today that realistically my dad has 4 to 6 months to live. 15% of people in this situation survive 2 years. Without treatment he'd be gone already. When he told me that, I felt something die inside of me. Literally, something sank and wilted. I mean, I think I held my own, I took the information in stride, but inside I was loosing control. Inside I was screaming at him, calling him all kinds of asshole and quack, telling him to shut up and give me something I could cling to. Anything, a word, a phrase I could grasp onto that meant anything other then the end. Some hope, but he didn’t. I stood there numb, choking on my own optimism. I asked him to be frank with me, he said, “This will not end well.” I couldn’t hear anything else beyond that. I just thanked him and excused myself. I don’t remember walking out of his office. I found myself in the bathroom of the 2nd floor oncology wing, on the floor, holding my knees, staring. I was close to tears but, they wouldn’t come, nothing would. Fragments of words floated in and out of my mind so fast I couldn’t make anything of them. I couldn’t put a thought together to save my life. I was so positive, even with what he said I couldn’t wrap my head around the truth of it, the certainty in his voice. I kept searching for some glimmer of hope in his words, but I couldn’t find any. I wretched myself off of the floor and went to the vanity to make sure I was presentable before heading back out into the spot light. I found I had been crying, the reflection I saw showed a blotchy, wet, mess. At that moment I felt everything I thought I wasn’t feeling on the floor come crashing into me. The horror in the eyes looking back at me was alarming. It was like I was looking at a stranger. The weight of his words had finally hit me.
For the next two days I spend a lot of time alone. No matter what I was doing, no matter how involved I was, “4 to 6” popped into my mind unexpectedly and I burst into tears. And to add to this misery, I was the only one who knew. I had decided that, brother, step-mom, and dad should know, but how do I tell them. What if they don’t want to know? How can I bring it up? I can’t hold this in much longer, but in the same breath, I can’t get it out.

Do you think given this info 5 years ago he would have prevented this pain? Maybe. Will you?

Look, I know it's tough. Even the thought makes you light up. But take it from me, an ex-smoker, it's worth it. I feel better. I can drive a car without one. I don't have to 'make sure I have enough' before I do...everything. I won't lie, I do get an urge every once in a while but it passes without catastrophe. Before, I would panic or throw a fit, my emotions went crazy when I needed and didn't have a smoke. Now? It passes without notice. Please. For the people you love, if not for fear of going through this yourself, do whatever you need to do to quit.

catch up...Cancer #6

So I haven’t been able to get on-line for awhile. I have been writing, it’s my sainity right now. This is from (aprox) Sept 2nd.




Dad’s been in the hospital for twelve days, now. It’s been pretty scary in many ways. Physically, I feel run down, yet oddly over stimulated. Emotionally I feel numb. The first week my emotions were running rampant, up down, up down. Now I feel ‘under’ emotional. It’s like the shock has worn into acceptance… except that I have absolutely no fear of him dying.( It felt a little creepy writing that just now) My heart isn’t sinking anymore. There is no alternative for him but to come home and resume life as usual. My mind refuses to even acknowledge there are other avenues for this thing to take. When someone throws out a ‘what if’ I shrug it off and change the subject, I can’t even talk seriously about it. I’m still just kinda floating, in a maze like dream but, it’s not as dark. I don’t know what to do with myself a lot of the time. He needs more rest now, as a result of the treatments, so we’ve been staying shorter and spreading our ‘shifts’ out more. I’ve really been enjoying my time with him, but I don’t feel it’s the beginning of the end. He has been talking about making some changes in his life. Living more then working, making time for the people he cares for. He also says some things that make me sad. He says this experience is showing him who people really are. When I asked him to explain, all he would say is that if it were (Deleted) in the hospital, he would never leave her side. I defended her by saying it wouldn’t be healthy for either one of them but, he said it’s just how it would be. He also said that before all of this began, he was pretty tired of his life. To the point that all he wanted to do was go to sleep. That’s all he looked forward to. He said, “I was just tired and feeling sorry for myself. Forever playing catch up with bills, and work, then coming home to a woman who acted like she didn’t like me half the time, was pretty depressing.” I really didn’t know what to say to that. I feel bad for them both, actually. Anyway that’s all I’ll say on that subject…for now. O-kay I have to say, I know she loves my dad. I can see it. I think he loves her more, but she does love him dearly. I just think she doesn’t know how to show warmth, she’s somewhat distant. It’s strange; she’ll be the first one to make you take vitamins so you don’t get sick but, if you get sick she probably won’t cover you up or tuck you in. Does that make any sense? She’d be miserable without him but I don’t think she knows it. I just hate to hear the sadness in his voice. He is truly a good, honest, loving person who deserves someone who makes him feel special, wanted, appreciated and who and enjoys him. I don’t think she does that enough. I think she is used to, and comfortable, with him. I don’t think she cherishes what she has. To be fair, he is my dad and I’m partial to him so I’m sure the blinders are in full force. All right enough about that. Here’s the reason I started writing this in the first place. Yesterday he was able to lie down! That is progress!! They were able to do the mold of his body which allows them to target the tumor more precisely. That means the tumor is shrinking and treatments have been working! Beautiful! He’s getting stronger, taking walks with me when I go up to see him. He’s a little wobbly but, not winded. Before just sitting up would take it out of him. They are still not sure when he’ll get to come home though. I was under the impression we were waiting to do these two tests but his doctor said it’s all really in how he’s doing as a whole. He’s improving but the still want to keep a close eye on him. He has his next chemo set for next week, Wednesday I think, so he’ll be there at least till then. I feel better knowing he's in good hands anyway. We'll see...