You see, 2 weeks ago my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Pancreatic cancer. One of THE most aggressive cancers with a low survival rate of only 20%. It seems a tumor the size of a cupcake was found on his pancreas and it was wrapped around an artery that goes to his heart. Surgery could not be done to remove the tumor because of its location so they talked about chemo to shrink it away from the artery. He was to have his first consultation with a specialist this coming Friday to talk about the course of action and when they would begin. Something else I should mention is that he has a blood disorder, Factor V Leiden Mutation, a disorder that I have as well, one that causes your blood to clot too much. Several years ago he had a blood clot in his leg and they discovered the disorder and he has been on blood thinners ever since.
Yesterday, I received a call from my sister that my Dad was doubled over, trembling and was losing consciousness. He stubbornly did not want to go the hospital but thankfully my sister called 911. After numerous texts and phone calls from my sister keeping me updated, it was determined that his muffin size tumor had increased in size to the size of a football in 2 weeks time. A blood vessel in his pancreas had burst causing internal bleeding as the blood thinners were making it so that his blood would not clot. They were going to go in, cauterize the vessel and drain the blood. This is not uncommon for this type of cancer.
When Daddy called me to tell me of his cancer I researched. I knew what we were up against but truthfully, I thought we had a little more time than this. We all did. After alot of thought upon looking at his records and test results, it was determined that surgery was not an option as it really would not help him. At this point, there isn't anything that can be done but wait. So I sit here, on very little sleep mind you, waiting for more information so I can figure out when we are traveling so I can make the necessary arrangements and as I sit here I have to come to terms with my Daddy dying while my family has to do the same about 800 miles away. Feeling helpless is a horrible feeling and my family is feeling the same way sitting in the hospital. It difficult to come to terms with a parents immanent death and the last 2 weeks have been more than difficult with the pinnacle being today when I got the news. We are slowly coming to terms with it and accepting it and to be honest, I'm glad that it's happening this fast. I have already told my family this. With it happening this fast, that is less time for him to suffer. I've seen what cancer does. My family is no stranger it. I've lost 2 Grandfathers, 3 Uncles, a Brother in Law and my Aunt is a breast cancer survivor. Needless to say, the less he suffers the better. We all feel this way.
Today, while I wait for more news, I remember....I remember how I grew up on a Harley and because of Daddy giving me rides I dream of owning my own and riding some day. I remember how when I was 9 years old I told him and Mom how I loved the sound of a guitar and he bought me a child sized classical guitar that I still have today. I have been playing ever since then and when he began his interest in guitars we bonded even more when he purchased his beautiful Les Paul and started to learn. When I adopted Caesar, my mealy amazon, he became entranced with parrots and now they have 4. He was truly devasted when I lost Caesar and Raeka in the fire last year. Daddy is an amazing man. He lost his own father to cancer, he has had his inner demons that he has battled as long as I can remember but he is also the MOST caring man that you would ever want to meet. He cries when he watches sad movies or even happy ones (I think thats where I get it from - although he always tries to hide it), LOVES spaghetti westerns and John Wayne movies, hates Shit on a Shingle, and was in the Air Force. He is a great mechanic on cars and planes but frusterated with with current technology of them. He can not stand to be in a hospital when a loved one is injured or ill and over worries although he wont let it show (again I get this from him). He is a passionate story teller, would give you the shirt off of his back if you need it and goes above and beyond what a regular person would do. I have always idealized my Daddy. I'm 44 years old and yes, I still call him Daddy. I always will. So many memories run through my mind and I can literally be here for days and days telling you about him and my heart breaks but I have to let him go. We will go to Illinois so we can see him again but I will not say goodbye until it is time. The doctor says that he has 6 months at the most. I will hold on as much and as tight as possible while knowing the best thing for him is to leave us.
Now I realize that this is an extremely personal subject and only a few people knew about what was going on, and some would say that I shouldn't share something so personal in a blog. I can't tell you why I didn't share until now, but I do so because as any writer will tell you, writing is cathartic. There is a certain freedom and release that goes with writing something so personal for others to see. I have seen this with the few updates that I have written about the status of the house. Perhaps I should be writing this in a journal for no ones eyes, perhaps not. I truly do not know. I do want everyone to know what a fabulous Daddy I have and like most children I will miss him terribly.
So, yes, today I celebrate a wonderful man whom we are all so lucky to have in our lives and you can bet we will cherish every single moment that we have left with him. I am proud to say that he is my father.
Today, Daddy, I salute you. You are my hero. I love you so much.
Isn't he handsome?
