My dad

[Martok]

(Note:  I'm cross-posting this both here and at ACG, so please pardon the blatant copy/paste if you see this at the other site.  Gods knows I don't have the mental energy to type this more than once...) 



First off, I'm just going to apologize now if this comes off as rambling and/or nonsensical.  I'm still really struggling to come to grips with all that's been happening as of late, so this post will probably end up more as a stream-of-consciousness than anything, and therefore less than fully coherent. 


Anyway, to get to the point (the TL;DR version): my father is dying.  He probably only has a few months left to live, maybe less. 


Around the beginning of 2019, his doctors found a large tumor on his kidney that was determined to be malignant.  After a frustrating 1 1/2 months of (what appeared to be) pointless dithering, they finally went in and removed the tumor.  The first checkup after the surgery showed he was cancer-free.  However, the doctors also informed my dad that his cancer appeared to be a more aggressive type, and that he was therefore going to need to have more frequent follow-up appointments. 

That being said, the rest of last year passed uneventfully.  My dad had a couple more checkups, and was still showing as clear.  I think this lulled just about everyone -- my father included -- into a sense of complacency. 

Then shortly before Thanksgiving, he has another appointment, and we're hit with the news:  The cancer has returned, and with a vengeance.  Suddenly, it's in all his lymph nodes, and surgery is impossible and/or pointless.  The doctors start him on some sort of drug treatment -- similar to chemotherapy, although he doesn't lose his hair.  It does take a lot out of him, though, and very quickly I see the man who raised & loved me begin to change in ways I never would've imagined...and I don't even know the half of it yet. 

A little over a month passes: Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's.  I know my dad isn't doing great (like chemo, this drug treatment can be almost as miserable as the cancer symptoms themselves), although at this point, I'm not yet aware of how bad he actually is.  Regardless, I make more of an effort to get together and do stuff with him, which he seems to appreciate.  Indeed, all us siblings step up: my brother has come down from Fargo a couple times now, and my sister just flew in from Denver last night (even though she was just here for Christmas).  He can't talk much anymore, but you can tell it means a lot to see us kids. 


And then things really started going south a couple weeks ago -- or rather, that's when it became obvious that they were (when really he was dong poorly all along): 
First, I discover that -- contrary to my initial understanding -- the drug treatment was never meant to halt the cancer, only slow it down.  Second (and more pertinently), I find out that, after a series of tests, it's determined said treatments have been completely ineffective in slowing it down in any case. 

The cancer has now spread throughout his body, and there's no stopping it. 

The doctors haven't given us an estimate of how long he's got, but I'll be very surprised if he makes it to his next birthday in May.  (If by some miracle he does live that long, it'll certainly be his last one.)  So in the space of just over a month, I've gone from the delusion(?) of believing my dad might still be around for a while yet, to suddenly facing the certain knowledge that he'll be gone before summer...if not sooner.  To say that I'm still reeling from shock would be an understatement. 


As my father has been having a great deal of difficulty taking care of himself the last several weeks or so (something else I was unaware of until just recently), he was finally convinced to move into one of the major nursing home/assisted-living facilities here in town, and get hospice care started.  (Incidentally, huge, *huge* props go to my mother:  She's a retired nurse, and even though my parents have been divorced for over 15 years, they still get along reasonably well.  She's provided critical advice & support to my dad since he was first diagnosed with cancer, and especially these last couple months.  It was thanks to her he stopped being so stubborn about a number of things, including acquiescing to moving to the nursing home.) 

When I went and visited my dad yesterday, it was the first time I'd seen him in around 10 days (the last time, he'd stopped by my workplace with cookies *sad smile*)...and I was shocked by the changes in him.  Honestly, the first thought that went through my head was that he looked like a Holocaust survivor:  He'd lost so much weight, and he looked so frail (he can barely talk now -- even whispering is difficult for him), that it took me a (very long) moment to recognize that this was the same man who loved & raised me. 


And that's when it began to hit me -- really hit me -- that my father is going to die.  All the grief, and fear, and rage, and other emotions I haven't fully identified yet, is finally starting to surface now. 

The tears haven't started yet.  But I can feel them coming. 

[SirAndrewD]

I'm horribly sorry to hear that Martok.  You're living what I went through this time in 2019.  I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

I know from experience that there's nothing anything anyone can say to make it better.  But talking about it can help. 

We're all here for you.  Just vent if you need to.

[besilarius]

Martok. thanks for sharing.
It's never easy to face this situation.  You make the best of a terrible situation and soldier on.  Right now is the worst of times, and everyone who cared for your dad feels awful.
Please don't think you have to take this alone.  We're your gang and will be here for you.

[JasonPratt]

Hugs, man.

A time comes in every child's life when we realize our parents are someday going to die. And then (if we ourselves survive long enough) that time comes round again someday -- but no longer only in principle.

And then the day itself will come, or days sometimes.

It's sometimes easier for those of us who have our religious faith, to bear, and sometimes not; but not everyone even has that much personal consolation to draw upon -- or not anymore. I have my reasons to trust in God for you and for your father's sake. But hurting still hurts, even to death eventually, regardless. (Which is much of the point of God Most High being nailed up on that cross along with all of us, together.)

I hope reason, love, and justice will strengthen you and your family in the coming days, for what must be borne and endured.

[Gusington]

I have been there too, Martok. I am sorry. We are all here for you. 

[Jarhead0331]

I lost my dad this July. I'm with you, brother.

[Tripoli]

Martok-I'm sorry.  My prayers are to your and your dad.  I lost mine in 2012, due to a cancer possibly caused by Agent Orange.  I was fortunate, in that he lived much longer, and with a higher quality of life than we had a right to expect. Like you, I didn't realize how serious it was until it was late.  For what it is worth, spend what time you can with him.  Say the things that need and/or should have been said before this moment.  Let him know you love him.  Have faith that you will meet again.

[W8taminute]

Jason well stated.  I understand where you're coming from.

Martok I'm so sorry to hear this news.  Your story sounds amazingly similar to mine.  My father is also on some sort of chemo that is designed not to eliminate the cancer in his lymph nodes but only slow it down.  Like you I'm facing the possibility that the man who loved, taught, and raised me will probably be gone by summer.  My advice to you is what I'm trying to do despite the busy things everyday living throws at you is to spend as much time as possible with your dad.  Even if only on the phone it means a lot.  When the day comes I know it will hit like a ton of bricks but for now I try to show him strength and never reveal the worry I have for him. 

For whatever it's worth, whether you believe in anything spiritual or not, I believe there is life here-after.  We will all meet up again someday in a better place.  Keep the faith!

[Toonces]

That's terrible, Martok.  Best wishes to you.

[jamus34]

A bunch of people prior said it better than I ever could.

Thoughts are with you and your family.

[Dammit Carl!]

So sorry, mate.

[Sir Slash]

I lost my Father to cancer in 1993. He lived almost a year after he was diagnosed with it and for the last month, he was completely unresponsive and total care. It is shocking to see someone who was always a rock become so weak and sick but I learned a lot about my Father during that time. He was completely un-afraid from the moment he was told he very likely would only live a short time longer. I know, I was there and saw it as he was told. And despite the suffering he went through, he never gave into to despair or anger or self-pity. He taught all of us how to be brave and I've known since then, I can face, and have faced, every single thing bad that's happened to me because of the example of selfless courage he gave to us during that time of great pain we all felt.

There's a way for you and your family to find your way through this terrible tragedy in your lives and go on without him even stronger and more united as a family than before. And I'm sure that's what he would want for you all. My prayer is that you find that way through and the peace it will bring.

[airboy]

Martok:

I'm sorry for the suffering of your Father and your entire family.  My parents died in 2006 and I pray for their souls every week.

I pray that your father passes in a State of Grace and that God's Love provides consolation for you and your family.

It is really hard to see someone when they are declining - but you will never regret doing it.

Many of us are old enough to have lost one or both parents - it is never easy.  I'm glad that your family is helping your Dad and each other.  My wife had the exact opposite in the worst way imaginable when her parents died.

I'll pray for your father's soul and for your extended family.

[Toonces]

I lost my dad over 20 years ago, but it was much different than Martok.  I was stationed in Jacksonville at the time and I got the call from my mom that my dad was sick, so I took leave and flew home the next day. 

I saw him for a few hours the following day, the next day he went into a coma, and then died.  I feel very lucky that I had a chance to see him and talk to him, etc., but I'm also glad that it all took place so quickly.  If I had to watch him decline and die, I'm pretty sure I'd be even more fucked up than I am now, still. In fact, I've never had to do that - watch someone's health decline - with any loved one.  I genuinely can't relate to how much that must hurt to go through.

I feel for you Martok, and truly do wish you the best during this trying time.

[airboy]

^ The worst is when a parent loses their mind, forgets you, and stays alive.  That happened to my Mom.  Dad was in a lot of pain and became largely immobile - but he was still Dad up to the end.