Helpless. It’s the only word I can think of to describe the way I feel the past two months.
My anxiety is being driven by my dads lack of energy, lack of golfing, lack of excitement.
I’ve probably mentioned before that my daddy is so much of my world. We talk all day every day whether he likes it or not. We have dinner together multiple times a week. We talk about anything and everything. He is my rock. But he’s crumbling.
He has lung cancer that has spread to his liver. For the last 6 months he has been getting chemo once a week for two weeks and then a week off. After his last CT scan they saw the lung and liver were stable (good news) but there seemed to be a shadow around his T9 vertebra, which also was fractured.
He had been complaining about lower back pain since the beginning of June. He went to the chiropractor and continued to golf through the pain, however he felt that the pain traveled up his back and now it hurt in the middle. Timing just seemed to be on our side that the CT scan was scheduled for beginning of July and showed the fracture. The doctors were uncertain if the cancer was eating at the bone or if the chemo made his bones weaker and the chiropractor just applied too much pressure. Either way they decided that a biopsy was an extra procedure that his body didn’t need and that radiation would be a good next step. He went through five days of radiation with a bone scan in the middle of it.
Radiation made him tired but he was feeling okay otherwise. The pain in the back was strong and he was having difficulty getting in and out of bed, twisting side to side, and standing for any period of time.
After the five days, the radiation oncologist read the bone scan telling us the best news...cancer is not in the bone!
We were all SO relieved with all the happy tears. He just needed to continue to relax and rest because that’s the only way to heal this fracture and get him back on the golf course. He was expected to restart his chemo the following week.
The following week, they ran his blood work (all good) and discussed his pain levels. He was eating very little due to heartburn and indigestion (from radiation) and had lost some weight. The doctor, dad and Aunt Colleen decided it was a good idea to hold off on chemo for another two weeks to prevent radiation side effects mixing with chemo side effects. Doc said no reason to make him feel worse. They decided to give him Xgeva, a shot in his arm, which is a medicine used to prevent fractures in bones due to cancerous tumors.
Well. After the fact, we wish he hadn’t had the shot. He is having many negative side effects including fatigue, insomnia, bloating, pain in his lower back and thighs, and overall weakness. He has not slept more than 4 hours during any given night despite trying every remedy we could come up with both natural and medicinal. He is reluctantly eating because of bloating and stomach cramping. He is napping in short spurts during the day, other days trying to keep himself awake to be able to sleep at night. It’s a vicious cycle.
He is exhausted. He is hurting. He has lost a lot of weight. He is bored. He misses golf and his friends. He misses traveling. He misses enjoying the little things he loves to do each day, as of right now most things (even going to get a coffee) feel like a chore.
For those of you who know my dad...this isn’t him. He is smiley. He is happy. He is willing to do anything for pretty much anybody (especially me!) and yet lately, he can’t.
He won’t read this because he told me he can’t read anything I write anymore, makes him too sad. I need to write this because how he is feeling makes me too sad.
He should be the one that is anxious. But I think it’s more than an anxiety for us both. I think we are both truly sad.
He’s sad, he’s sick, and he’s just over being tired. And I can’t do anything about it.
I think I’m writing this because we need prayers. He needs all the prayers and positive thoughts sent his way. We know we have the support system, we’ve been through this. We know we do. But when we are all helpless, we can only count on our faith to pull him through this storm.
It’s funny. When you go in for chemo, they ask how you’re feeling. We list all the things that don’t feel good, the things that are causing discomfort. And somehow the nurses have a way of comforting you. They give suggestions how to handle the pain, ways to prevent it next time. They speak so matter of factly and show compassion. They make us feel more at ease.
It still stinks. A lot. He’s still not sleeping and still isn’t feeling good. But I am so hopeful that next week when we come, he will feel even an ounce better and we will all be on a road to recovery.
I know this is his fight, but it’s a battle we are all are a part of. Him, obviously. Me, dealing with the anxiety, the sadness and the fear each day. Trying my best not to question why, remembering the timing was important, he was there for the wedding feeling great. Trying to not make this about me. Matt, who more than I care to admit has been extremely patient with me because I am constantly worried, crying, planning around time with Dad. Maggie, who is so far away and constantly worried about him. Jackson, who in his own (not always ideal) way is dealing with his own anxiety and fears.
It’s so much easier to “forget” Dad is sick, when he is normal. I know, duh, but it’s true. When he was busy, golfing, fixing stuff, working, traveling, enjoying life for all that it was still it was a lot easier. I may have said this once already, but he is my rock and yet I feel like we are both crumbling.
So if nothing else I am writing this today, yesterday and the day before to simple just ask for the prayers.
Please just pray for my daddy to regain his strength, his sleep (maybe this the most) and then for him to get his golf game back so he can go back to being the smiley, happy, active guy we all know and love. 💛🖤👨🏽🌾
