...it pours
To continue the October saga, we move on to my dad.
Ever since he had a skin cancer removed from his temple several years ago, he's had intermittent pain in the affected side of his face. Over the last few months, the pain had increased in frequency and intensity. Then he found a lump in his lower lip/jaw, but it wouldn't appear on x-rays or scans. When he went to the dentist a few weeks ago, the dentist could feel it but still couldn't see anything so he sent dad to a surgeon. The surgeon ordered a biopsy that confirmed the presence of cancer, but not the type so he ordered more tests to determine that. In mid-September they finally diagnosed squamous cell carcinoma.
They scheduled an MRI for 10/11 to see if it had spread and prepared to start chemo and radiation on 10/17. The week before that, Dad decided he was too unsteady and falling too much to live alone anymore, so on 10/8 he moved in with Connie and Larry. He fell again on 10/9 and cut his head open. Because of the blood thinners he was taking, Connie couldn't stop the bleeding so she bandaged him up and took him to the hospital. They admitted him and moved the MRI up a day since he was already there.
The MRI showed that the cancer had spread to the brain stem which explained the problems with balance and swallowing. By Tuesday he couldn't swallow at all and the oncologist decided Dad wouldn't be able to withstand the chemo and radiation. They started him on morphine for pain, signed up with hospice on Thursday, and early Friday morning he died in his sleep.
The family started gathering on Saturday. All of dad's descendants and both surviving brothers were able to come. Visitation was on sunday evening and the service on Monday morning. Having all the great-grandchildren there made it much easier. As many people noted, although one life was ending there were more beginning (including 8-month-old Braden and 2-week-old Alice).
I didn't really have much trouble handling Mom's death. We weren't all that close and we fought all the time. Dad was different. Even when he was working too much overtime and days could go by that I didn't see him, I always knew he was only a phone call away. When tensions were high between me and Mom, Dad's presence was all it took for both of us to calm down and resolve the conflict. When things were changing all around me, Dad was the steadying influence I could count on.
I keep telling myself that Dad is in better health now than ever before; that he's receiving his reward for living a good, Christian life and it helps, but I still feel adrift; like I've lost my anchor. I know it will pass with time and someday I'll see him again along with my grandparents and I just have to keep my focus on day.
Ever since he had a skin cancer removed from his temple several years ago, he's had intermittent pain in the affected side of his face. Over the last few months, the pain had increased in frequency and intensity. Then he found a lump in his lower lip/jaw, but it wouldn't appear on x-rays or scans. When he went to the dentist a few weeks ago, the dentist could feel it but still couldn't see anything so he sent dad to a surgeon. The surgeon ordered a biopsy that confirmed the presence of cancer, but not the type so he ordered more tests to determine that. In mid-September they finally diagnosed squamous cell carcinoma.
They scheduled an MRI for 10/11 to see if it had spread and prepared to start chemo and radiation on 10/17. The week before that, Dad decided he was too unsteady and falling too much to live alone anymore, so on 10/8 he moved in with Connie and Larry. He fell again on 10/9 and cut his head open. Because of the blood thinners he was taking, Connie couldn't stop the bleeding so she bandaged him up and took him to the hospital. They admitted him and moved the MRI up a day since he was already there.
The MRI showed that the cancer had spread to the brain stem which explained the problems with balance and swallowing. By Tuesday he couldn't swallow at all and the oncologist decided Dad wouldn't be able to withstand the chemo and radiation. They started him on morphine for pain, signed up with hospice on Thursday, and early Friday morning he died in his sleep.
The family started gathering on Saturday. All of dad's descendants and both surviving brothers were able to come. Visitation was on sunday evening and the service on Monday morning. Having all the great-grandchildren there made it much easier. As many people noted, although one life was ending there were more beginning (including 8-month-old Braden and 2-week-old Alice).
I didn't really have much trouble handling Mom's death. We weren't all that close and we fought all the time. Dad was different. Even when he was working too much overtime and days could go by that I didn't see him, I always knew he was only a phone call away. When tensions were high between me and Mom, Dad's presence was all it took for both of us to calm down and resolve the conflict. When things were changing all around me, Dad was the steadying influence I could count on.
I keep telling myself that Dad is in better health now than ever before; that he's receiving his reward for living a good, Christian life and it helps, but I still feel adrift; like I've lost my anchor. I know it will pass with time and someday I'll see him again along with my grandparents and I just have to keep my focus on day.
posted by KathyGS at
9:20 AM
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