Happy Chemo?

Well today the whole family got together for a BBQ. Since there is a good chance that he will be starting treatment this week, it just seemed right. I'm so glad we did. Everyone had fun, and the mood stayed pretty light.

No one really knows what to expect from the chemo, and when he begins the radiation he won't be able to eat. They'll have to insert a tube into his stomach, and he'll put stuff like ensure into the tube and that's how he'll eat. So it's going to be pretty bad. But if that's what needs to be done to avoid the alternative, then so be it. 

I don't know if I'm handling it better, or just still in that state of shock. I just want to cry. I just love my dad so much, and seeing him with all his loving grandchildren, it just kills me to think that this is anything but the beginning of a bad couple of months. After that it'll be over. And my dad will be here for another 20 years. 

You could see it on everyones mind, but no one said anything. We talked about the big C a little bit, but mainly it was just technical stuff. The thing I want to look forward to the most is going camping after it's all over. I think that would be great. I'm just so scared. Scared for my dad, for me, my brother & sister, the kids, all of us.

I wish I could say things to Jan, that I don't know how to say. It seems so strange to be in a place where the truth of the matter is, I thank God she's there. Admitting that almost feels like a betrayal to my mom, but it's the truth.

I took a million pictures today and a bunch of home video footage. It felt kind of creepy, but I did it anyway. It was a good day, and hopefully this will be the beginning of many more good days where the whole family is together.

Allen even made a cake. We joked with my dad about what we could've written on the cake...

The only time anyone lost it was me, after everyone else had left. When my dad was leaving, I wanted to say so much, and I think I did say what I needed to say. But these words were what kept going through my head as to what I want him to hear when he's at hid darkest moment.
And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
"Just what your worth"

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Another Day

Am I ever going to get past his state of shock? Will searching on the Internet for good cancer treatment centers and trying to plan a life around chemo and radiation ever seem real? I have a feeling that the answer is no. I'm finally telling people, which I guess is good. It's OK, after that initial, "My dad has cancer" part. That's the line where my voice always cracks. I feel like telling people should make it more real, but it doesn't. The more I talk about it the more detached and surreal it seems, compared to my other life. Life, BC.

I told the kids today, well Patrick. He took it pretty well, but than again I didn't really enforce the seriousness of it either. It seems mute to freak him out now. All he needs to know is he's sick, and the doctors are trying to make him better. Patrick was wondering if the radiation would turn grandpa into the Hulk? Kids have their own way of grasping things. Whatever it takes.

I keep thinking about how as a little girl I hated him drinking & smoking. How scary it was for me. Scary, because this is the kind of thing I feared would happen. It's just not fair. All I can do is pray we get through it. 

Please Dear God & Beloved Goddess,

This man is so much to so many, and the world would be so much less of a place if you took him now. He truly loves all that you've created and has dedicated his life to enjoying your simple wonders. He loves and is deeply loved in return. Please, not now. Please.

Cancer: Week 2

Well here is where we begin. Yesterday my dad got the results back form his CT scan, and they were not able to confirm whether he was in stage 2 or stage 4. Stupid doctors. Regardless, he starts chemo/radiation next week sometime. I'm so scared for him. I just wish he didn't have to got through this. I wish so much. 

One of biggest concerns, if they have to do surgery is the kids. Because it's his tongue, he's so worried about scaring the kids. I told him that was ridiculous. And though I know that's the truth, I couldn't help but ache for him,  just that he even had to entertain the thought. Grandpa, scary? Not in a million.

Jamie & Kiara are coming down this weekend so we can all get together before he starts treatment. No matter how much of a handle I have on it, I still can't really grasp it either. If that makes any sense. I still haven't told the kids. Tomorrow. Maybe it would be better if dad was here? I dunno. He's supposed to be here tomorrow for dinner. It'll be the first time I've actually seen him since all this went down. 

I also contacted the Tibetan Healing academy. A friend of Allen's recommended a Tibetan doctor. I got in touch with them, and hopefully it might be something dad will look into after his initial treatment. 

I just got off the phone with dad, God I love him. He makes me laugh. Even in spite of all that's going on he still makes me laugh.

It's funny how less than a week ago I felt abandoned by my faith. And now, now I feel it all around me. I don't where or how, it's just suddenly here. But I guess that's just how faith works.

Finding That Eye Of The Tiger

Well right now is the best I've felt since we found out about dad's cancer on Wednesday. Wednesday? Only three days ago? Feels like a lifetime already. Anyway, for all the bad stuff that the internet can shove down your throat when looking up any kind of cancer, there can be good things too. I looked up my dad's cancer, (esophageal cancer) only this time I added the word "survivor" to it. I found quite a few stories of people who have survived stage three and even four EC (esophageal). Some are even past their five year mark. It helped me find some of that much needed positivity, that in turn has started to stir the much needed "Eye Of The Tiger". 

I know that there are still many bad bad days ahead, but I can at least revel in the good positive vibes I'm feeling right now. I drove by my old church today. I felt some comfort just driving by it, and I had some very vivid memories of when my dad had pancreatitis a LONG time ago. It was pretty scary, and he was in the hospital for a pretty long time. We were good little Catholics during that time and God was the first person I turned to then. I don't know, I guess I'm just feeling a little less abandoned than I did earlier today.  I just hope that it's not fleeting and that I can keep a grip on it. 

I say that because I also know the real prognosis for my dad's condition is still yet to come. Who knows what those doctors will say. You would think technology would have come far enough to be able to give these answers pretty swiftly. Then again I guess Friday to Monday isn't that long in normal life. Normal life, you know, BC. Before cancer. There's BC and then there's now. Now, one day feels like a lifetime. 

The kids saw both of us (Allen & I) lose it a little this morning. I hate that. I just don't know what to say, because frankly, I don't really know anything. I don't know anything except Dad's got cancer. That's not enough for the kids, they need something more than that. So when we get a clearer picture of what we're dealing with, then we'll figure out what to say to them. 

Dad went camping with Jan this weekend. She's having a pretty hard time with it he said. I feel for her a lot. Next weekend we'll all be getting together, and the weekend of Jamie's b-day. I think we'll be doing a lot of that over the next few months. Well, all in all, I feel positive. So positive infact, I actually don't feel like I'm on the verge of throwing up. It's kind of refreshing.

Wrapping Your MInd Around It

Last night I had a nice chat with Dad. And today. I also talked to my brother for the first time since finding out. It was, weird. I really want to be saying the right things to everybody to make them feel better. I'm just not sure if there is a right thing. I keep trying anyway. Maybe part of it is because I don't want this horrendous feeling of impending doom that is sitting like a knot in the pit of my stomach to show. I pray that it's not. Everyone has all got these positive cancer stories to share, except me. All mine, end badly. They end ugly and they end badly. It sucks. 

I've yet to tell the kids. Dad had his cat scan today, and sees the oncologist Monday. We'll have a better handle on where we stand. Oncologist? God I hate having that word in my life. I didn't last week. But here I am, with it starring at me right in the face. Anyway, once we have a better handle on where things are, then I'll figure out what to tell them. I can't even imagine. I just can't imagine. 

I haven't actually called any of my friends yet either. I mean what's the protocol? I guess there isn't one. I guess I just call and let them feel sad for me, and listen to me cry. That's what they're there for, right? 

I'm a very spiritual person. I always have been, and it's very strange to suddenly feel so abandoned. That's the best word I can think of to describe it. Abandoned. Abandoned by my faith and by my spirituality. I feel them NOWHERE. Why? Just when I need them the most. It's not fair. It's not fair, none of this is fair. 

So This Is Cancer

When I was a kid I used to have this horrible recurring dream where my family and I was being chased with a faceless man in a black cape and hat. I say faceless because I never was able to get a good look at his face. The strange thing was that the dream was always ironic because while we were always running and hiding from the faceless man, we were always trying to catch him to. Neither ever happened and in time the dreams stopped. While in high school I had the dream analyzed by a pychologist who said it was tied in with fearing and trying to conqour alcohlism. It made sense to me, and that was the end of it.

Now though it has occurred to me that maybe it was something else. A fear that I NEVER admitted to anyone until now. Like some people have phobias about different things, mine has always been about cancer. It's been a deep seeded fear that I've always done my best to ignore my whole life, but last week, and well last night, it was something I could no longer ignore. Cancer had come knocking. And there's nothing I can do to keep it from coming in and setting up shop right here in the middle of my damn life. 

Moms and Dads get sick with cancer, I've seen it happen to my friends. I just always denied the possibility that it would happen to my dad. I think about the years when I was a kid, pleasing with him to stop smoking and drinking. And he did, so why now? Why God? Why do my kids have to watch there grandpa go through this? Why me? Why him? I guess, I've always prided myself on being a strong person and that if cancer ever hit my family I would be on that "Eye Of The Tiger" let's fight this attitude like the people you see on TV. But right now, in these first 24 hours since cancer has come into my life, all I can think is that those people are either stupid or big fat liars. Because the only thing I can think  to do is find a great big hole and crawl inside of it and hide. 

The suckiest part about this part of it, is we don't know what's next. Tomorrow dad goes for his cat scan to see where exactly we are in this fight. I don't know how to do this. This whole "cancer" thing. I guess I should find some comfort in the fact that my dad has always had a very "we could get hit by a bus tomorrow" kind of attitude when it comes to feelings and communication with us. So there is nothing I feel that I need to say, because he already knows how I feel about him, our life, our relationship, and all that he's done for me in my life.

I guess I should find some comfort, but I don't. Because all the love and beautiful words, can;t change the fact that I'm not ready. For shit's sake, HE'S not ready to go dammit. 

OH, there it is. There's the fight. ..