Part 1
My Father had gone into the ER in horrible pain, his doctor over 4 months of dealing with this pain had told him it was Arthritis in his Back. I knew that wasn’t true. With no medical degree I just knew it wasn’t true. Nothing added up. The ER doctor, a nice young man my Dad said really listened to him knew right away. It was cancer, and not just cancer but a very deadly kind. Pancreatic cancer. By morning it was basically confirmed. What took my Fathers Doctor 4 months to keep missing this ER doctor figured out right away. Tests confirmed it all and soon my Dad was dealing with life as a terminal patient with stage 4 pancreatic cancer on chemo.
The chances of my dad beating stage 4 pancreatic cancer was less than 5%. My Dad was upset with his doctor and wanted to take legal action at first. We all supported him. Fear I think got the best of him though…. he didn’t want to have to find a new doctor. He was terrified that if he took action that some how she or other doctors would take offence and take all his pain management away and some how let him just die. My strong father was never one to pick a fight…. he avoided conflict when ever possible. One day on the phone with his doctor at some point she broke down crying over his condition. Dad called me after and told me that mistakes happen, that she will learn from this, and we have to move on. My step-mother is still seeing this doctor much to my horror and when ever it takes weeks to get an appointment or it seems like my Moms issues are not being addressed I can’t help but wonder if this Doctor is going let another one of my Parents just die.
My Dad lived a clean life… didn’t drink much, didn’t smoke, and ate more free range meat than most people can dream of thanks to his past times. How did he get this cancer? His own mother lives till near 96 years old and she has smoked from when she was 12 till when she was 94! His father had died at the age of 72 of a heart attack, he could have had an operation to repair his heart but he choose not to as he didn’t want the medical bills to possibly leave his family in debt….. my Grandfather choose death rather than debt….. you might imagine the conversation I had with my Dad making him promise to fight and not choose the same path his own father did. He promised to fight.
Still, while he promised to fight that doesn’t mean he would listen….
You see I had it on good authority that the best place to go for cancer treatment was a place in Boston, less than an hour away. At first my Dad agreed but then his insurance told him to go to a local doctor for cancer treatment, my Dad met this man who had no hope of my Dad living and no hope of trying anything “new” other than the common chemo. My Dad didn’t want to go to Boston, all the trips, the potential costs. He wouldn’t push to try and get into any trials either. He would only do what his doctor said and basically his doctor said nothing mattered, not diet, not any medications…. no hope. Just a bit of time with typical chemo. So my Dad wouldn’t try any diets, wouldn’t do any research, just blind faith in this doctor.
That is the first lesson I learned about living with the dying…. you have to accept their choices and that can really break your heart.
It was months of trying to talk my Dad into even trying marijuana to help him be able to eat. The cancer had made it so he hated eating and drinking all together. My Dad feared breaking the law, he feared talking to his doctor about it, he just was so scared. One of my sisters finally talked him into edibles. We tried talking him into getting a medical marijuana card as surely with his cancer he would qualify but he just wouldn’t. He was scared he would lose his gun license. Scared to loose his bloody gun license. He could hardly hold a gun never mind use one. He couldn’t go hunting…. he couldn’t even shoot at his gun club. He was dying and all he could say was that if he lived then he needed his gun license. I didn’t think he would lose it in the first place but he was certain and no amount of research would change him mind. So he was stuck with what ever marijuana people could find him, and he needed it. He knew it helped more than most things did. Part of me still wonders, if he hadn’t cared so much about his guns, would he still be here or at least had more time? Did our crazy american gun culture help my Dad die faster?
People who are dying can say and do crazy things that make no sense!
Fear was what ruled a lot of my Dads choices. It broke my heart. One of his fears was that him and my Mom wouldn’t be able to get through winter alone. They live in New England and winters can be hard. They have a pellet stove and moving the very heavy bags was not beyond my Dads abilities and was very hard on Mom. They worried about snow removal and being able to get out in bad weather to all the doctor appointments and chemo. They had neighbors and friends that would help but my Dad was a man not used to depending on anyone and it hurt him I think to need help from others. My brother a long time felon and drug addict and my brothers wife convinced my Dad to let them move in to help….. I told my Dad it was a bad idea. My brother upon hearing of our fathers cancer put himself into rehab and finished 30 days. This was the first time he had ever finished. While I finally had hope that I would get my brother back I didn’t trust that he could be around my dads medications and given all the history of abusing people who help them and their lack of morals I didn’t trust my brother and his wife around my vulnerable parents. My dad in tears though begged me to give my brother and his wife yet another chance…. my dad just wanted all his family to love one another and be there for him. As my family is stationed in GA (husband is military) we couldn’t be with my Dad to help. My Dad didn’t want me to move up and away from my husband as we had already spent so much time apart and we have 5 kids and homeschool. My dad didn’t want to be burden on us, but my Brother and Wife didn’t have jobs and so in a way my Dad felt like he was getting a chance to help them again! I agreed to give it another shot. I really tried…. so so hard I tried.
Try to protect the dying from those who would take advantage of them!
I should have tried harder to protect my Dad and Mom. In the end, my brother went back to drugs, stole from our Dying father and our Mom, and then robed a store and is now in jail again. His wife denied knowing anything about the drugs and stealing, the same story she always has, poor her…. let me tell you, she has the morals of a Mosquito. She just can’t seem to be honest with anyone and worse, she did something that could very much have hurt my parents. Details I can’t give but goodness….. there will be no forgiving it. Fool me once. The little help my brothers wife was, and my Dad said she did nearly nothing and it hurt him, she didn’t even protect them from what she had to have known was going on. My brother is paying for what he did, I know Karma will get his wife too.
What did I learn next…. the thing chances are you already know.
Part 3
