November 28, 2012 - Time

Time

None of us knows how long we have on this planet. I'm not sure most people would want to know in advance the exact day and hour their "time" is up. What would you do if you did knew? What would you do differently? What would you consider to be the small things and the important things? I'm guessing our perceptions and priorities would change drastically. Would you worry about cleaning your house weekly? Watching calories and avoiding decadent foods? Would you continue to work everyday? Would you spend more time with loved ones? Go somewhere you've always wanted to go? Tell your loved ones that you love them?? How would you show them?? If 12-21-12 actually is the end of the world ... Will anything actually matter??

I chose time as my topic tonight because, as I mentioned, we don't know how much time we have on this planet. The one thing we can all be 100% certain of is that we will expire someday ... Later than sooner, we hope, but the outcome is inevitable. (Even for those who have been cryogenically preserved!)

My dad is over 88 years old, and is still hanging in there. He's going through a rough time right now with cancer, radiation, chemo, and having to be horizontal all the time, but he is a strong man and we are all extremely hopeful that he will recover and be well again. Some people might think he's lived a long life ... And he has, but the potential for him to live even longer is great. We have faith in the "Doctor" Above and those He has chosen to excel in the field of medicine here on earth to do their very best for my dad.

As of this morning, dad has gone through 7 of 35 radiation treatments, so he's 1/5th of the way there. He's had 2 of 6 targeted therapy treatments, so he's 1/3 of the way done with those. He's still feeling pretty good, but we can tell it's starting to effect him, even by looking into his eyes. We are doing all we can to help him remain as positive as possible.

Sometimes I'm not sure it that's enough. Even though no doctor has told him, "You have 'X' amount of time to live ..." I cannot help but wonder if that goes through his mind. Me? I've not even considered that! I admit I did in the beginning ... Especially after they first put him on the ventilator, and then again when he was going in for surgery, but overall, no. I haven't given that one moment of thought! And, I'm not going to start now!

You see, back in 2004 my dad had a heart attack followed by four bypasses. He was lucky. He survived without any complications or restrictions. In ways, I have seen every day since then as a bonus. Since he had the surgery a couple of weeks ago to put the trach and feeding tube in place, I have once again seen every day as a bonus he wouldn't have had they not found this horrible cancer that was invading his body and presented a reasonable form of treatment to rid him of it. I have faith, hope, love, and strength. We all do.

Tuesday morning I was blessed to have some time alone with my dad. I stood by his bed and held his hand. With tears in my eyes I told him things we sometimes don't always say to our loved ones. I told him how I felt about him. How we all feel about him. He held my hand for the longest time and told me he loves me, too. I also told him I was scheduled to fly back to California this morning. I told him I would gladly change my flights if he wanted me to stay. He said yes.

When it came down to it, I knew in my heart that staying one more week was the right thing to do. I asked my family to help me decide, but most of them told me to go because they were afraid I'd think they were being selfish if they asked me to stay ... Silly people ...

So, here I am. Still in Tennessee. I spent many hours with dad today. I took mom out for dinner tonight so we wouldn't have to cook. I miss my husband desperately. I miss my kitties something fierce. I know my husband understands why I am here ... He explained the need way better to my family than I ever could. He is doing his best with my kitties and we may even try to facetime (maybe tomorrow??) so perhaps Buddy can see me, rather than just hear me inside that little black box.

Next Wednesday will be an emotional day. Even more so than every other day in the month of November, 2012 has been. I will be leaving Tennessee, my friends, my family, and my precious parents here and returning to California to prepare for a trip out of the country. I hope and pray that dad gets transferred and settled out at the respiratory center at Asbury Place so he can continue his treatments and begin rehabilitation. He has a long road ahead of him. We all do because we will all travel that road together, despite the many miles between us.

Time is a precious and limited commodity. I'm doing my best to use it wisely.

November 27, 2012 - Do I Go or Do I Stay?

Do I go or Do I Stay?

Today was a long day, but not nearly as long as yesterday ... Well, depending on what time you start your day! Christy and I stayed with dad last night and we didn't sleep at all. Well, I did snooker off for about ten minutes, but I woke myself up and never did even try after that. After almost loosing dad yesterday morning (more than once!!) we just had to keep an eye on him.

Sometime after 8:00 this morning Christy went home so her son could use her car. I stayed till Conrad came to get me. He arrived and stayed for a few minutes, then we stopped by Starbuck's, got our favorite breakfast, and came back to the house. I pretty much went straight to bed and slept for three or so hours, then took a shower and was ready to get back up to see dad.

We played fruit basket turnover because mom went up there as we left, and when she was ready to leave, we were going back in. She said dad asked for me the entire time. Bill was also up there when we got there and Christy came back shortly after us. Eventually, all of us were there at the same time and I needed their help.

I had a decision to make ... Do I go on home to California or do I stay another week? I decided I would ask my family to help me decide ... Including dad. I even posted on Facebook to get the much appreciated opinions of my wonderful friends. (Thank you all for replying!!) I decided I would weight some of the responses ... Dad's answer would represent 20% of the vote, Conrad's would also represent 20% while mom, Bill, Christy and I would each get 15%.

The nurses came in the clean dad up and check his vitals, etc., so we decided to use that time to look at options and place our votes. I asked one of the nurses if she'd do me a favor ... Please talk to dad to see how he felt about me leaving or possibly staying. She agreed to do it. The rest of us were in a waiting room, so I handed out slips of paper that said, " Carol ... Stay ... Or ... Go"

I explained that if I went home tomorrow I didn't know when I would be back, however, if something happened to dad I'd do my best to get back. I told them I would check about changing my flights so I would be able to stay another week or so. So, we voted.
Mom = Go.
Bill = Go.
Christy = Go.
Carol = Stay.
Conrad = Stay.
If you do the math, either way, without dad's vote, the "go" votes won. We all knew dad would ask me to stay. With his vote, that pushed extending my stay over the top. Conrad explained that by adding one more week that would give us seven more days to see how dad will be doing. The way he explained it was awesome. I knew in my heart that staying was the right thing to do. The selfish part of me wanted to go home because I miss my home, my cats, my friends, our walks, our bed, our life. The other part of me knows my dad would miss me terribly and that he listens to me, trusts me, and will likely do better if I am here. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but we just have that kind of relationship. We always have.

As it turned out, the nurse talked to daddy and said, "your daughter is going home tomorrow, isn't she?"
Dad said, "yes."
She said, "I bet you'd like for her to say, wouldn't you?"
He said, "yes."
She said, "do you want her to stay for your wife? Or for you?"
He said, "I want her to stay for me."

So, I went back to the house, got my paperwork out and called United. I had already pulled up the available flights online and found the ones I wanted. Knoxville to Denver to Sacramento. Inexpensive, too. I told the girl it was a medical emergency and told her about my dad. She took care of everything ... Updated my flights, selected my seats, and issued a credit voucher for almost $400.00! Can't beat that!

Conrad and I went back up to the hospital to see dad. I told dad about my flight changes. He smiled and thanked me. I think he knew Christy and I are helping out with the guardian angel duty ... 

November 26, 2012 - The Battle

The Battle

Sorry, but this post might be a wee bit graphic ...
Christy and I are spending the night with dad. Conrad took mom back to mom and dad's house so she can get some rest. He came back up here to bring toothbrushes and a few other necessities, then went back to stay with mom.

Dad has aspiration pneumonia due to the bout of vomiting after his radiation treatment this morning. That's not his main problem though. He has a fever ... It's down to 100.7 (it was 102.5). They've done CT scans, X-rays, drawn blood, monitored his vitals, ordered panels, etc. ... Now we play the waiting game.

It has been two hours since I started this post. We had to leave the room for a bit while they did some more tests and checked vitals. Christy and I went downstairs to eat some dinner. I know, 11:30 at night isn't exactly the best time to eat dinner, but we do what we can do when we can do it. We are glad we discovered the grilled chicken wraps ... They are very tasty! We usually split one.

While we were in the Atrium I sent Conrad a text asking him to call me. I figured it might scare mom if I called, so the text seemed to be the best solution. He called and asked me how things were going. I told him in detail, then he repeated what I said so mom would know. She's worried about dads labored breathing.

Dad is sleeping now. Not sure how soundly or comfortably, but he is sleeping. For a while he was pretty alert, but not now. He needs serious rest, so we are being quiet. The nurses come in so often to check vitals, administer meds, etc. it's no wonder patients have a hard time sleeping!

Christy just went downstairs, so I am alone with dad. It's giving me time to really soak in a lot about him. He's so strong. He's so smart. He's so loving. I look at him laying there so peacefully and I realize where I got so many of my qualities from ... So much of my personality ... My likes and dislikes ... My interests ... My expressions. I love my dad. I don't ever want to let him go, although I know that will happen at some point. I just hope and pray that time is way off in the distant future. I am far from done with him!

Dad is fighting for his life. He may never read all the posts I have written about him and this journey. He never talks about D-Day or the rest of his experiences during WWII. I'm certain he won't talk about this experience either. It definitely is a war. A battle against cancer. The big difference is that he's fighting this battle against a virtually invisible enemy and he's the victim ... The prisoner ... The tortured.

Mom, Bill, Christy, Conrad and I are all here to help dad get through this, but all the nasty treatments, the physical burns, sores, aches, and pains are his to bear. If I could do anything for my dad, I'd go through this ten times for him if it meant he could be well and whole without having to go through this himself.

Tomorrow is another day. A day that will begin fresh and new when the sun rises. One filled with hope and faith. One filled with prayers and healing thoughts. One filled with strength and love.

November 25, 2012 - Whispers

Whispers

There are lots of reasons to whisper ... To share secrets ... To not disturb others ... To allow others to sleep ... And, to be heard. They say if you truly want to be heard, speak softly, forcing other to really listen. For some, though, whispering is the only way to be heard. Take dad, for example ... Ever since Friday, November 9th, (Actually, October 31st when they put the ventilator in) dad hasn't been able to talk due to having a trach. We have told him that after speech therapy he will be able to cap off the trach and he will be able to speak. This is all assuming that radiation and targeted therapy shrink (and annihilate!!!) the tumor on his left vocal cord. 
Christy and I have been working very hard to try to read dad's lips and understand what he's trying to say to us. His writing is shaky, but I've done okay trying to read it. We have all resigned to the fact that communication will be challenging, but something happened overnight. We are not sure what, or how, or when, but somehow dad figured out how to whisper and be heard! 
Mom and I went back up to see him last night after everyone left. We didn't stay long, but we didn't want to break our promise by not going. He was awake and happy to see us. He wanted us to go on home because it was late, so we left after about ten minutes. 
This morning we went back up to see him. We noticed that there were actually audible sounds coming from dad ... He was whispering and was extremely clear in what he was saying!! 
He asked us a couple of questions several times ... Have we seen any doctors today? ... When is he going to Asbury?
He's also not trying to spit out long sentences, rather saying short phrases and one word comments ... Any news? Where's Bill? How's weather? Spill (when he drops ice chips in the bed) Hot. Cold. Ice. And a few more. Christy told him what the lottery is up to now and he actually whistled!
Dad is ready to be somewhere else and is probably ready to be doing something else ... Anything other than laying in a hospital bed, I'm sure! He has a few medical issues that need to be addressed, but we are hopeful they will be handled quickly and that everything can start moving forward at a quicker pace. No matter what, he has been in the hospital for over a month now, so lots of therapy will be in order. They say for every day a person is in bed, three days of therapy are needed. At that rate, he already needs three months of therapy, and his stay in bed isn't over yet.
Dad has now had 5 (of 35) radiation treatments and 2 (of 6) rounds of targeted therapy. I see the beginnings of redness on his neck and a couple of places on his skin that indicate the chemo is working. The redness is from the radiation and is expected to become quite red like a severe sunburn with peeling. His throat is expected to get sore, too. The spots on his skin are actually a good sign ... that means the chemo is working, according to his oncologist!
Tomorrow and Tuesday will be super busy days. We have lots to do before Conrad and I go back home early Wednesday morning. In ways it feels like I've been here forever, but in ways it feels like my work here is nowhere near done. Are we ever really done? Nope!
We're making giant strides along with baby steps, but so far it seems it has all been forward progress. We cannot wait to hear dad's voice again, but for now ... We're glad to hear him whisper.

November 24, 2012 - Simple Things

Simple Things

It's already Saturday night, November 24, 2012. That means I've been away from my home, California friends, and kitties for 25 days. I'm not sure where the time has gone, even though some days feel like they've gone on for an eternity. I went to Knoxville for the first time yesterday morning. Conrad treated Christy and me to a massage, then she and I stopped in Old Navy before heading back to Maryville to go spend the day with dad. I've seen very few of my friends while I've been in town. I've eaten at only a couple of my favorite restaurants. I've shopped in very few of my favorite stores. And, I haven't even gotten to see the Smoky Mountains with the exception of the view as we walk out of the hospital late each afternoon. I didn't make it to a single Maryville High School football game or even an Ice Bears hockey game. This hasn't been a 'pleasure' trip, but a necessary trip. Mom still has a list a mile long of things we need to do while Conrad and I are here. We may have to split up and kick it into high gear to get everything done. Tomorrow is Sunday. It's supposed to be a day of rest, but that won't happen for us. 
Dad had his fourth radiation treatment this morning before 7:00. We didn't make it up to see him until about 11:30 today. Conrad and I took mom's car to have it detailed; we stopped at Starbuck's to grab a treat to have while we sat and waited on the car. That was a welcome treat ... First time I've been in a Starbuck's since November 3rd. (I was going through Chai Tea withdrawals!!!) We also stopped at Home Depot and had a couple of keys made.
Dad was quiet when we got to his room, but asked me to give him a shave. I did. Afterwards, I gave him a warm, wet washcloth and it was quite obvious he enjoyed the sensation on his face. I'm sure that was a welcome change from the foaming soap the nurses use on him. It's the simple things we take for granted. Like the other day when Christy and I gave dad a manicure. Afterwards, he proudly showed his nails to everyone who came to see him. Having well groomed nails made him smile. Having a clean shaven face made him smile. Being surrounded by his family makes him smile. Blowing us kisses and throwing ice at us makes him smile. 
For several days before dad's radiation treatments began he was somewhat fixated on when they'd start. He's well into that routine now, so he's on to another phase ... When is he being moved to Asbury. What's Asbury like. What will he do at Asbury. I told him everything I knew about the place. We do know he's been accepted out there, but we don't know when his doctor will release him to go out there. I told him what the rooms are like and what the rehab area is like. I even told him I have a very dear friend who works out there and that she will take extra special care of him while he's out there. I told him how beautiful the view is from the rehab area and that they have a very high success rate in helping people regain their mobility. I told him with hard work and determination, perhaps he can be back at Shannondale within a few months. Again, it's the little things that help him begin to accept the unknown. 
Dad doesn't want us to hide anything from him. That's fine, because we all want to be completely honest and open with him. As we learn things we share them with him. He soaks it all in and begins to accept and deal with the situations as they arise. He's a very smart man. An engineer. He was diagnosed with early stages of Alzheimer's several years ago, but I honestly do not see it. I see a man who still processes everything he hears, sees, and reads. I see a man who enjoys working crossword puzzles and watching old Westerns of TV. I see a man who was proud and firm in his beliefs and dealt with red tape in order to vote in the election this year. I see a man who still loves his family and worries about each and every one of us all the time. I see a man whose interests have narrowed some, but whose haven't at 88 years of age? 
I have three more days I can spend with dad before Conrad and I fly back to California. I am planning on making the best of every moment available. I will be there with dad most of the day tomorrow, Monday and Tuesday. I will help mom with chores and run errands when I'm not there. I will take breaks for the occasional meal, and spend some time with a few friends, but I will not be able to add any more visits during this trip. If I haven't seen you while I've been in town, I hope you understand why. We've been blessed with visits from some amazing people, and I truly appreciate all you all have done for us. Meals. Brownies. A beautiful Journal. Cards. Prayers. Visits. Hugs. Smiles. Tears. Concern. Love. It's the little things that matter. They all mean so much to all of us. A thousand Thank Yous to you all!

November 23, 2012 - Peanut Gallery

The Peanut Gallery

Apparently, the Friday after Thanksgiving is not very busy in a hospital. We went up to spend time with dad this afternoon and we had no problem finding good places to park. We didn't see any of dad's doctors. We hardly saw any nurses. All was quiet ... Turkey coma, perhaps?
Dad had his third round of radiation VERY early this morning. I think he's getting used to the routine and is more comfortable with the procedure. Since the machine was down last week they are working all weekend to get caught up. This means that by next Friday dad should have ten treatments behind him! I hope he stays positive and willing to go through this. We will all continue to encourage him and be positive.
Dad's room is quite small. It's a lot larger than the 'closet' he was in before, but still, it's quite cramped when all of us go up to visit. We're not good at staggering our visits ... We all tend to end up there at the same time. Family overload, I suppose.
The nurses have been kind enough to round up chairs for all of us. We all sit there in a line at the foot of dad's bed ... Looking like ducks in a row ... Christy, Bill, mom, me and Conrad ... The Peanut Gallery.
Dad loves his ice chips. It's the only thing they will let him eat. He smiles and savors them, eating them with a spoon. Occasionally, he'll drop one. When he does, he picks it up and throws it at us ... Usually at Christy, but I was the target today. I asked daddy if he'd like a water gun to shoot at us. He smiled and shook his head YES!!
Dad's doctor put in an order for a different bed for dad. It's got an adjustable mattress so he'll be more comfortable, no matter what position he's in. The bed arrived, so we all decided to leave. It dawned on them pretty quickly that the new bed wouldn't easily fit in the room, so they moved dad to a HUGE corner room ... A room with a view!!
One of his awesome nurses took all of his cards down off the cork board and even put them up in his new room. She even told us they moved all the chairs over for the entire Peanut Gallery!

I'm sure my dad feels like the days are running together. He's in bed laying flat on his back. He looks forward to our visits ... So much so that if we don't get over there early enough he has the nurses call the house to check on us. Our days are running together, as well. We get up each morning, go through our morning routines, go to the hospital to be with him, come home afterwards, grab a bite for dinner and go to bed.
We are learning how to manage stress. We are learning what things in life qualifies as "The Small Stuff" and what matters. Family matters. Spending time as a family with dad matters. Dad matters. I cannot imagine what our lives would be like without him and I hope we don't find out for a very long time.

I'm praying for dad's continued strength and determination. I'm praying for continued wisdom and focus where the doctors and nurses are concerned. I'm praying for God's guidance and love to help us get through this journey. I'm praying for our little Peanut Gallery to stay strong; full of hope, faith, love, and courage.

November 22, 2012 - Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

Even though today is Thanksgiving, people were still receiving radiation at Blount Memorial Hospital. That's highly unusual, but the machine was down most of last week, so they are working through the weekend to get caught up. 
Dad had his first treatment of radiation yesterday afternoon, then his second round of targeted therapy last night, then another round of radiation this morning ... As in ... Before 7:00 this morning!
We went out for lunch today. As we got back to the house, I opened the door and the phone was ringing. I rushed in to answer it. The caller ID showed Blount Memorial. It was dad's nurse calling for dad. He wanted to know where we were ... We were late! I told her we'd be coming over in just a few minutes.
Dad seemed to feel okay, but he said he was depressed. I think he was glad to have another treatment behind him, but he still has 33 to go. 33 to go ... Seven weeks ... 5 days per week. Seven weeks ago was the first week of October ... Seven weeks from from now is January 10th. I have to admit its difficult to fathom having a treatment that often for that long! Depressed? I can see why!
We don't know what the next few days will bring, but daddy has been accepted at Asbury, so he will be going out there for a while for rehabilitation. They say for each day a patient stays in bed, three days of therapy are required for recovery. If that's the case, dad is pushing on three months of therapy. I'm thinking he might be ready to join us for a 5K in the spring ...
I am keeping my hopes up, my thoughts positive, my faith strong, and my prayers frequent.
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving day! We all have so much to be thankful for!