Tag Archives: cancer

This Is Rough

5 Nov

As per request from my dad, this has not been made public to the extended family, or friends.  For the few who know me personally, please do not say anything to anyone.  He will tell them when he is ready.

My very foundation was rocked to its core the other day.  Everything that is going on in my life has now paled in comparison to what I was told by my mother.

My dad has cancer.

Not my father, but my dad.

The dad who came into my mom’s life 24 years ago, and was willing to take on her ready-made family.

The dad who paid for my braces instead of an engagement ring for my mom.  Even though she deserved the biggest and brightest one ever.

The dad whom I refused to get along with for seven years…to the point where I moved out at the age of 14.

The dad who loved me despite my absolute fucking bitchiness.

The dad I almost lost at the age of 17 due to a bad accident-which made me realize how much I love him, and how much he loves me.

The dad who walked me down the aisle and gave me away.

The dad who is a grandfather to my boys.

The dad who nursed me back to health after I had meningitis.

The dad I am very much in danger of losing.

It’s bad.  Very bad.  He has been having lower back pain, and has been seeing a chiropractor.  The chiropractor (who is also sports medicine certified) took some x-rays, and told D that he would be right back in the room to give the results.

30 minutes later, he walked back in, handed D a sealed envelope, and told him it was imperative he see a doctor within the week.  The doc refused to answer any other questions.  My dad had the envelope sitting on the counter at home for two days, unopened.  He looked at it every day, and every night.  The contents of the envelope were wearing on him, and he just needed to know.

He called my mom from work, and asked her to read what was inside.

It’s not good.

Bone metastases were found in the lower spine and pelvis.  For all of those that know what that means, I can imagine the look on your face.  I’m sure I made the same one.

It means the cancer has already traveled.  And traveling to the bones…well…

It is killing me to not be in the same state.  No one in my family has any kind of medical background.  Just me.  They don’t know what questions to ask.  They don’t know how it works.  They believe what they are told.  I wish we lived in an age where you could just believe doctors, but you can’t.  A perfect example…last year my dad’s heart rhythm went into a third-degree heart block.  What that literally means is the two chambers of the heart are not communicating with each other.  The atria is doing its own thing, rocking out to alternative music, and the ventricles are liking the smooth sounds of jazz.  The heart, at that point, is ineffective.  D was close to hearing ‘Knocking On Heaven’s Door’.  Anyways, D calls me from the ED-Esme, don’t worry, but I’m in the ED.  Something with my heart, but I’m just fine.  I breezed into that ED room like I owned the fucking place, took one look at the monitor, and walked back out (to the nurses station).  He most definitely was not just fine.  Had I not been there, he would have been discharged home to die.  I shit you not.  The fucking incompetent cardiologist had the nerve to tell D that he could go home and rest until a doctor could see him the following week.  I asked for a new cardiologist, right then and there.  D got one, and had a pacemaker implanted within the next 24 hours.  Go home my ass.  So after that episode, I am sure you understand why I have no faith in that hospital.  The one his insurance is at.  FUCK.

I have been on the phone with my mom the last two days.  Giving her questions to ask, demands to make.  Giving her pep talks, but all the while not giving any false hope.  My mom said my dad is besides himself.

How do I deal with it?  By unloading on this new guy I have been talking to…for like three days.  Spilled all.  Yeah, smooth on my part.  But let’s be honest, I could give two shits if he cares if I am a psycho emotional bitch or not.  I have other things on my plate.

I don’t know how to deal with this.  I can’t run.  I can’t punch something.  I can’t do any kind of high-intensity exercise what-so-ever-which is what I would normally do.  I can’t be there right now because I am dealing with court issues with the ex.  The kids and I are supposed to go visit for New Year’s, but it sounds like he will be in treatment.  So that’s scrapped.  I’m scared I won’t be able to get them out there while he is still healthy (yes, my ex is that big of a douchebag).  I’m worried I won’t get out there while he is still healthy.  I have so many worries, so many fears.  And I can’t answer any of them.

Love, Esme

 

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