I've been thinking about posting for a while, but just didn't know what to say. At first, I was too upset and didn't think it would be a good idea for me to write anything in here, but I think I am finally to the point where I can write about this. It's strange how I started this blog solely for the purpose of recording our adventures in Mexico, and how it has turned into a place for me to vent about my Dad's battle with cancer. I guess I don't really have the energy to even be frustrated and vent about it anymore. My dad's still hanging in there, but not for much longer. A month ago, he ended up back in the hospital in severe pain, and initially the thought was he would have to have surgery again because of the intestinal blockage caused by tumors. But it was much worse than that- a scan revealed that not only had the tumors grown enough to cause more blockage, but the cancer had spread like wildfire all over the place and there was nothing left to do. He was given a few weeks left to live. Honestly, when I went to see him in the hospital, I thought that a few weeks was being optimistic, I wasn't sure if he would last a week or even make it out of the hospital when I saw how much pain he was in. But he did make it home after a couple days, and seemed to improve rapidly after that, thanks in part to constant administration of pain and anti-nausea medications. Hospice began coming to the house as soon as he returned home, and we were forced to deal with the reality of the situation as he began getting his affairs in order and planning his funeral and burial. And then a couple weeks later, he ended up in the hospital again because of excessive vomiting and he wasn't unable to keep any of his pain meds down, so now he has a g-tube as a means of relieving pressure and drain things to prevent further trips to the hospital, and he can receive pain meds through his chemo port as well. And because of the blockage, he's on a strict liquid diet, but struggles to get enough nutrition. He's losing about a pound a day and getting weaker and weaker. It's strange to think how his organs are super healthy, but the cancer is destroying his ability to function, and eventually the tumors will cut off a vital system. That could be in weeks or days, you can't really plan these things. His body is quickly wearing out and I think he's ready to be done with this life. I thought we would have more time- the prognosis with treatment was 2 years after diagnosis, but it was even more aggressive than we expected. There never really was any hope for a cure, only prolonging the inevitable. To quote Lord of the Rings, there was "only ever a fool's hope" except in this story, Sauron (cancer) wins.
I was really mad at first and felt like our family was being bullied. I still feel like my Dad is being bullied because, well, that's what cancer does to your body. It's a nasty old bastard. However, I'm coming to accept the inevitable. I am sad and scared, but I am learning that there are many things beyond our control, no matter how hard we fight against them. Our bodies are very imperfect, and death is just as much a part of life as birth is. I'm grateful to have been able to have had an amazing dad for nearly 30 years, and as painful as the outcome will be, I know it will only be a temporary separation, although it will feel long while the rest of us are left behind.
