Tuesday, 1 April 2014

The Little "c"

Composed on dad's first treatment:

At his very moment I am sitting in a dimly lit space, surrounded by voices, whirring and beeps, shuffling feet and bustling nurses.  My stepmom is my anxious companion, as we sit by my dad's bedside.  When I shared with her I was going to write about dad and the big "C" - she was quick to correct me and renamed it the little "c."  (Every now and then she says something worth noting - but don't tell her I said that!)

All has been quiet on the blog front as we have been coming to terms with cancer joining our family.  It was an uninvited guest.  But before it announced it's appearance, it came like an invisible, deadly ninja months before and lay in wait, spreading like dandelions on a freshly plotted piece of garden.  Except less pretty.  By the time it became clear that something had invaded my dads 56 year old body, the damage had already been done. It started in the lung....spread to his liver, his spleen, his lymphnodes, his spine, his skull, his brain...pretty much everywhere.

So we wait while radioactive material blasts him and courses through his veins.  We try and have the most ridiculous conversations to lighten the oppressing mood of illness, making him laugh unexpectedly while he can stay awake.  We pray, we hope, we yearn for the chemical cocktail to work its magic on the little "c."

Time has become the most precious commodity in our lives.  It has started to spill it's sand so quickly it's all we can do to collect each grain and appreciate what it represents.  None of this scary news has affected my dad's outlook on life.  He's still positive even though he just had to give up his career at Kraus Flooring, which I think was more difficult for him than even being told he has terminal cancer.  Unbelievably, and I mean even the doctors were blown away when dad was asking if they could arrange radiation and chemo appointments around his work schedule, he worked through the beginning appointments.  He is one loyal employee.  But that is how he lives his life.  So I channel his high spirits and dedication, so that I can be the best daughter and caretaker I can be.

I can't believe it but...I'm gearing up for a battle at the side of my dad.  It won't be pretty for the little "c".  Expect undignified outbursts along the way!

Never give up,

Kathy :)