"Everyone you've ever known counts on you, waits for you..."
I'm restless and a bit edgy. Of course, after the week I've had, I guess I have a right to be.
My dad's been in the hospital. His cancer (esophageal) is back, and I guess you could say I hear the clock ticking now. Eight years ago, he was still strong, still relatively healthy, still stubborn and determined, so he came through his months of chemotherapy and radiation treatments and lasted seven years longer than his doctors expected.
Then it was about quantity of life, living long enough to get to know his newest grandson, the Impossible Son, and besides, he wasn't done yet.
Now, though, he's much more frail. Diabetes, arthritis, and the constant challenge of, "is this the day I won't be able to swallow and end up choking on my food?" has taken its toll on him.
It's about quality of life now.
He couldn't swallow last week, and when he went to see his doctor, they discovered the dilation that they've been doing for the last seven years wasn't going to work this time. So, it was decided to put in a stent to hold his esophagus open so food will go where it is supposed to. Except, his tumor is growing fast enough that it pushed the stent out of place and blocked it. So... back in the hospital, and after an attempt to re-situate it, they decided to put a second stent inside the first one to reinforce it.
The pain medication they gave Dad in the hospital at first made him cheerful and loopy and everyone's best friend ever. The pain meds they gave him the day before they released him, however, does not work as well, and makes him nervous, so he's sarcastic, impatient, grumpy, surly... you name it.
I have this feeling he's going to be going back, probably on Saturday, because you see, that would be inconvenient. For him and everyone else. That's just the way the universe works around us sometimes.
There's nothing I can do at this point except listen when my mom calls with her worries, call my sisters to make sure everyone's on the same page, and go outside to listen to the quiet so I don't transfer my stress to my own family. It makes me restless and tense. And cranky.
That's just the way it is, I guess. I'll go outside in a bit, watch the clouds for breaks so maybe I can catch a glimpse of the stars, and decompress a bit.
Maybe I'll beg THO to go out and get me chocolate. Lots, and lots, and lots of chocolate.
My dad's been in the hospital. His cancer (esophageal) is back, and I guess you could say I hear the clock ticking now. Eight years ago, he was still strong, still relatively healthy, still stubborn and determined, so he came through his months of chemotherapy and radiation treatments and lasted seven years longer than his doctors expected.
Then it was about quantity of life, living long enough to get to know his newest grandson, the Impossible Son, and besides, he wasn't done yet.
Now, though, he's much more frail. Diabetes, arthritis, and the constant challenge of, "is this the day I won't be able to swallow and end up choking on my food?" has taken its toll on him.
It's about quality of life now.
He couldn't swallow last week, and when he went to see his doctor, they discovered the dilation that they've been doing for the last seven years wasn't going to work this time. So, it was decided to put in a stent to hold his esophagus open so food will go where it is supposed to. Except, his tumor is growing fast enough that it pushed the stent out of place and blocked it. So... back in the hospital, and after an attempt to re-situate it, they decided to put a second stent inside the first one to reinforce it.
The pain medication they gave Dad in the hospital at first made him cheerful and loopy and everyone's best friend ever. The pain meds they gave him the day before they released him, however, does not work as well, and makes him nervous, so he's sarcastic, impatient, grumpy, surly... you name it.
I have this feeling he's going to be going back, probably on Saturday, because you see, that would be inconvenient. For him and everyone else. That's just the way the universe works around us sometimes.
There's nothing I can do at this point except listen when my mom calls with her worries, call my sisters to make sure everyone's on the same page, and go outside to listen to the quiet so I don't transfer my stress to my own family. It makes me restless and tense. And cranky.
That's just the way it is, I guess. I'll go outside in a bit, watch the clouds for breaks so maybe I can catch a glimpse of the stars, and decompress a bit.
Maybe I'll beg THO to go out and get me chocolate. Lots, and lots, and lots of chocolate.