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I’ve often second guessed myself these past few days. Like…should we have put Dad into the hospital sooner? Should we have went back to the Oncologist after getting the “bad” PET scan report? Should I have hidden the fact, from Dad, that the scan showed “activity in the area of the left rib cage, and showed several other new growths, one pressing against the vital carotid? Most days I say, we did the right thing. Dad stayed home all the days of his life except when he absolutely couldn’t get up without much much much more help than I could give. Just last Saturday, me, Mom and Dad sat outside his house, I lit a fire in their mainly unused chiimarree, and we got to enjoy the fire, the outdoors, the bird songs, the gentle breeze, the fact that we were NOT in the hospital or nursing home. Sunday, we did much the same…and Dad wanted a ride in my little bug. I complied of course…no whiplash at all! I stayed all night from that night on. Tht was the last day that Dad went anywhere. Monday, not only was Dad unable to talk, he didn’t want go to the hospital for his zymeta or even have the bloodwork done. He needed help to get off the couch. He ate nothing. that’s when we got the wheelchair, commode and aafter discussion, determined we would stay home as long as Dad had no pain and I could still get him up with stand by assistance from Mom. Dad was able to say at home until Wednesday then, we went into the hospital late afternoon for bloodwork, zymeta and in our heart we knew, final admission to the hospital. Mark had to lift Dad from the wheelchair into the Durango. God, what a heartbreaking experience. Dad was in a bad way. So weak, but still no complaints. Once in the hospital bed, which I haven’t seen him lay down for 1 and 1/2 years (not to mention Mom), he rapidly deteriorated. He rested finally after midnight. I went home for a few hours and when I went back, I knew it was almost over. He died Thursday morning. Thank God he didn’t have to suffer anymore. Today, is the funeral. Another difficult day. But I couldn’t wish him back to suffer anymore.
It’s bad now.
Everyday someone asks…”So…how’s your dad?”, and I have to pause and say, “He’s not good, he’s not good at all”. Even though I said that yesterday, and the day before that and the day before that…today…he’s worse. Each day unfolds some new, bad. Every day is hell in it’s own way. There is no word for this disease…this parasitic fungi…this appetite stealing, body wasting, sonofabitch cancer.
I think dad has pneumonia or a virus. He seems weaker and his voice is a bit hoarse. He has no energy. He doesn’t want to eat…an ongoing problem. He requested his nebulizor medication. He is taking Darvocet frequently…I don’t know if he is having that much pain since his last thoracentesis or…I don’t know. He had some Levaquin left and started on that…but…I think he needs to go to the Dr. Of course he threw a big ass fit when I told him I was making an appointment and taking him. NO NO NO he told me.
okay…I get it. Don’t help you
when I know better
this has been a day from hell anyway and now I feel even more of a failure.
some nurse/daughter I am
Dad had a left lung thorecentesis yesterday. For him, it was extremely painful…the worst one yet. He said, “I’m not doing it again”, and I think I believe him. Maybe there will be no need for it. They drained off 800cc of fluid this time. He took 2 Percocet for the pain and I think those meds helped him.
He is to get Zometa on March 9th or so.
I guess he is not choosing to do the parathyroid surgery.
He is depressed.
The last time he went to the Dr. (and I couldn’t go to this appointment) the Oncologist said things that were depressing Mom said….like…”If I were a betting man I’d bet this cancer will come back”, and “If you are going to be around for 4 or 5 years more I would suggest the surgery”…and I guess the way he said things he was looking down at his hands and just…depressing.
Dad’s weight is 140’s. He isn’t eating. Doesn’t want to.
But his scans are good. State…No sign of cancer.
Although his Calcium remains on the high side. 11 this time.
shit, I don’t know.
Bastard Dr anyway.
Bastard Cancer anyway.
Fucking cigarettes anyway.
Talked with mom about 1 hour ago.
The endocrinoligist called and said he thinks dad does have thyroid trouble and wants him to see the surgeon on Feb 22nd in Lincoln.
DAMN. Just a bit of tarnish on our good news.
Word on the CT scan?
Yes…C L E A R from cancer. Yes, there is fluid bilaterally. Yes there are radiation changes. No metastasis. No new growth. Nada.
Liver clean, kidney’s clean, abdomen clean.
Dad had a CT scan with barium swallow today.
We went up to Kearney, did the test, got groceries in Holdridge, and came home.
We go back to Kearney on Monday for the results.
We have not received the results for the test ordered by the endocrinologist either.
Do we want to or???
I don’t know.
Sometimes ignorance is bliss.