Sometimes nothing goes right. It’s
a natural consequence of being human. But when it happens for weeks on end, it
starts to get at you. A number of things happen. For me, personally: sleeping
either two or twelve hours a night, getting really angry at people who complain
about incorrect Starbucks orders and/or call me Suzanne, Susan, or any other incorrect
variation of my name. Watch out world!
Let’s review shall we?
Two months ago my father was
diagnosed with adenocarcinoma. His bilirubin levels were too high to start
chemotherapy, a stent was placed to allow for proper movement. He flew to
Baltimore to get a consult, a plan was made after reviewing options, after a
test confirms his levels are low enough to begin chemo, he flew back to Hawaii
to meet with an oncologist to start chemotherapy. After a PICC line is placed,
he goes into start, except his fever is 102, so it’s a no go. A few more tests
and he has confirmed sepsis. That resolves, but then his gallbladder acts up it
has to get removed, biopsies are taken that confirm metastasis to his liver.
Another date for chemo is set. But he can’t digest food, he’s boated, he keeps
throwing up. His stomach isn’t working. A bypass is preformed to skip his
duodenum that is obstructed by the tumor. But his stomach still won’t work. He
still can’t eat. Nothing works. And he’s in excruciating pain. After a (seemingly successful) nerve
block today, and a colonoscopy, it looks he is just really impacted (google at
your own risk). After that resolves with laxatives and enemas, his stomach
hopefully starts working again. Eventually. Possibly.
The handsome Italian Stallion, Dr.
Maldini, reminded me today we need to move forward so he can start chemo.
That’s the goal. Except I was also reminded today how inherently flawed the
conventional treatment for cancer is. We poison the whole body in the process.
It kills people just as much as it makes them better. It sucks.
All this really sucks.
So fine. Everything is terrible.
I’m depressed and mad. I can’t think straight and all I want to do is lay in
bed all day. That’s not great. But
it sure as hell makes me thankful for all the trips I took with my Dad to Sam’s
Club to look at cakes as a little girl. All the days we played making forts and
sliding down our stairs on giant pillows. I’m glad we worked through my rocky
teenage years to get to a place where he could teach me the high points of
capitalism and he could hear my passion for fighting human trafficking. I could
at last admire him for how smart and what a listener he is. I’m so glad we
traveled across the country so much, saw so many beautiful things together. I’m
glad he let us cuddle with him so much. He made so much time to be our Dad.
I surprised him in the hallway last
week after an x-ray, and in a propofol stupor, he looked at me, stroked my
cheek and said “my beautiful girl, the one I prayed for, for nine years”. He
really did too. They tried so hard to have babies. And when they finally got
them they spent every single day making it evident how much they loved us.
They gave us every beautiful thing
they knew: Christ, knowledge, and Glacier National Park.
And then Paris, Rome, and Bratislava,
when they got a little more cash.
This is my favorite picture of my parents. They are both drunk. We are in Greece. I love them.
In conclusion of this extremely
long winded note, hang out with people that created you/you created today. Mean
it when you say you love them.
Suzanna
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