Christmas wasn’t the same this year…
I’m trying to pay attention to the positives, but it’s been hard. My dad has been in the hospital for two weeks now. He was diagnosed with stage 4 small cell carcinoma and is rapidly declining. The cancer has metastasized into his lymph nodes, liver, and most likely brain. Brain lesions would need to be confirmed in 3 weeks with a repeat MRI.
We’ve attempted palliative chemotherapy to extend his life (his choice), but it’s not helped much so far. His liver is getting better, but his platelet and white blood cell counts keep declining and won’t improve, even with the many transfusions he’s been given. He’s at risk for bleeding, which probably wouldn’t be able to be stopped with such a low platelet count.
The worst part has been his mental state. Some days he doesn’t recognize my siblings or I; some days he just looks terrified. Then there’s days like today where his mind is completely elsewhere. Today he held a non-existent phone in his hand and smoked a nonexistent cigarette whose ashes he flicked out of the window of the car that he most definitely was not in. He has no concept of time, has no clue where he is. Through it all, though, he seems to remember one thing: “I’m dying”.
He should’ve been with us today complaining about dinner not being ready on time and then eating too many deviled eggs. It sucks. “Sucks” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I don’t know. Not really even sure why I’m writing this, but I guess I needed to get it out somehow.
We’ve attempted palliative chemotherapy to extend his life (his choice), but it’s not helped much so far. His liver is getting better, but his platelet and white blood cell counts keep declining and won’t improve, even with the many transfusions he’s been given. He’s at risk for bleeding, which probably wouldn’t be able to be stopped with such a low platelet count.
The worst part has been his mental state. Some days he doesn’t recognize my siblings or I; some days he just looks terrified. Then there’s days like today where his mind is completely elsewhere. Today he held a non-existent phone in his hand and smoked a nonexistent cigarette whose ashes he flicked out of the window of the car that he most definitely was not in. He has no concept of time, has no clue where he is. Through it all, though, he seems to remember one thing: “I’m dying”.
He should’ve been with us today complaining about dinner not being ready on time and then eating too many deviled eggs. It sucks. “Sucks” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I don’t know. Not really even sure why I’m writing this, but I guess I needed to get it out somehow.
31-35, F
