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.
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