Hello Darkness my old friend

 There are moments in life that you cement in your memory.  Holding your baby for the 1st time.  Walking across the stage for your doctorate.  Your dad tells you he has cancer.  5 years ago, almost 6 now, my dad started a colon cancer journey that would see him nearly die twice and undergo 3 separate surgeries; each surgery literally taking a piece of him.  

On January 18th, as I was getting ready for work, my dad stopped me and asked me to contact his cancer doctor; he thought his cancer was back.  I stayed visibly calm, said I would take care of it, and then went to my room to cry.  I took a moment or two and then I dried my eyes and contacted the doctor.

We had an appointment for the next week, about a 5-day wait.  We saw the doctor, got a series of appts, and got sent home.  Honestly, I don't think the doctor quite believed my dad about his symptoms.  Then two days later, my dad tells my mom he needs to go to the ER, everything is worse.  They decided to wait until Friday, Jan 26, since I don't work Fridays, so I could go with him and advocate.  That was the last day my dad was in Lufkin.  He has been in Temple ever since and we don't know when he will come home.

He had major abdominal surgery on Feb 15th.  A surgery scheduled for 6 hrs took 18 and landed my dad in the ICU.  That was a hard day, just waiting and waiting.  We were told around 7pm that it would be a few more hours due to an accident during surgery. The accident took 6 hrs to repair and then he had 3 more hours of surgery to complete the fix.  The good news: no cancer!  The bad news: lots of complications.

I got to stay with my dad while he was in the ICU.  I was so worn out by the night before waiting on him to come out of surgery that I actually slept on that tiny guest bed and even slept through the midnight blood draws.  We had to leave Temple for a BJJ tournament on Saturday and I got to see my dad that morning before leaving.  I got to see him get out of bed!  

He has not had an easy time of it this time.  The previous 3 surgeries, he was out of the hospital in 3 days.  This time we are about to be at 7 days and he still can't eat.  They won't release him until he is eating.  He can't eat because his intestine isn't awake yet.  He ran a fever two nights ago and yesterday they placed some tubes into his kidneys.  We are playing the waiting game.  

Yesterday, I was working on something at my desk and decided to check-in on my dad.  I happened to call while a nurse was in the room informing him of the procedure to insert the tubes into his kidneys.  The interesting thing was that as I was listening in, "Pressure Machine" (the song not the album) by The Killers was playing.  This is a pressure machine.  Will I pop or can I hold on long enough to welcome my dad home?

Below is my Facebook status from Sunday, Feb 18:

I'm sitting outside trying to get some sunshine therapy. To say these past 5 days have been hard would be an understatement.

Seeing my dad on a ventilator, watching the agony on his face waiting for the breathing tube to be removed, and then watching the excruciating pain he went through standing for the 1st time post surgery.

I thought I was ready for this past Wednesday. We knew it could be a long day. We knew it could be more difficult than expected but how do you prepare for a surgery that is scheduled for 6 hrs but goes for 18? All we wanted was for a 100% robotic surgery and when they opened him up completely, the devastation was almost overwhelming.

Instead of bringing my dad home today like we had hoped and prayed for, I left Temple yesterday with zero idea of when he is coming home.

There were bright spots. Moments with Ray and the girls but it is hard.

It is hard to balance the little girl who wants to be with her daddy with the woman who has to go to work and run a household while adding in the requirements of managing my dad's health from afar.

I can really feel the pressure when it comes back after a break. Watching Audrey yesterday and focusing down to just being Audrey's mom was a welcomed respite. We walked the Comerica Center laughing and celebrating that I forgot I had left my dad then on the way home I realized I had no idea when I would see my dad again.

While I was sitting in the ICU with my dad there was a young mother in the next room and her 4-year-old kept running and screaming in the hallway. While I question the parenting of allowing such a young child into the ICU, I also understand the needs of that baby. He just wanted his mommy. I hope his mom makes it out of the ICU and back home. I pray for all of the shell-shocked families I saw in the ICU.

For now, my dad is waiting on his body to come back to life. His intestine has been traumatized for the 4th time and the very complicated surgery has made it hard for it to wake up. The doctor said this is normal. Don't worry, yet. This is normal, just give it time. So from 3 hours away, I wait with my phone by my side.

Dad's surgery

On Wednesday, my dad had his major surgery to remove cancer.  It seems like anytime he had surgery it is last minute.  While we knew this was coming up, we had been told it would be this week and we all made plans, took days off, and in general prepared for this week.  When they offered to move the surgery up a week, dad jumped at the chance which meant we had to jump to get ready to be there.

To say I was unprepared is an understatement.  They moved surgery up a week so I and DH had to quickly change our days off at work and figure out how to pay for a hotel room when payday wasn't until Friday.  I was expecting him to be in surgery at 1:30pm so we could leave later in the day and instead they move his time up to 11 am so we had to scramble to leave earlier.  I was expecting a 2-3 hour surgery, like the surgeries before.  Once I was in the room waiting for them to take dad back, we were informed that it would be 4-5 hours and about 7 hours until we would see him again.

Once they took him back, we had to wait.  Baylor, Scott, & White - Temple did have this cool system were you could basically watch a screen for updates on your loved-one's surgery but it was not working so the waiting room lady would call up families with updates about every 60-90 minutes depending on when the surgery team would update the system.  At one point the lady came over to find us with an update and I nearly came unglued.  They usually only go to the families that are about to get bad news.  In those milliseconds, I just knew my dad was in trouble.  Thankfully, I was mostly wrong.  They extended his time in surgery.  In the end, instead of seeing at about 8pm, it was nearly midnight before I saw my dad again.

He stayed in the hospital until yesterday and as with any surgery, we are watching him for infection and other complications related to  his surgery.  I'm back at work after missing the last 3 days of last week.  I honestly can't focus on anything.  I'm blogging, listening to Christmas music, and in general keeping my mind busy but not on anything heavy.  Honestly, I'm just trying to be ready to hop in the car and rush home in case they suddenly need me.  What I can really do from 2 hours away, I'm not sure but I'm sure there is something!

So dad is recovering.  I pray he continues to get stronger everyday and soon enough he'll start another round of chemo.  In case you need to hear it: Do not ignore changes in your intestinal track or bowel movements.  I've lost 2 friends my age to colon cancer.  My dad is fighting and my father-in-law is 2 years from being declared cancer-free.  People don't ignore your body.  Get your year check-up.  Get your pooper checked. 

Dad with Baby Lala practicing gun safety.

Cancer surgery #1

About 3 weeks ago, my dad went in for a surgical consult and to meet with the rest of his cancer team.  The simple consult turned into emergency surgery.  There was a second mass that had suddenly become life threating between the weeks of transferring care from one hospital to the next. 

We had decided to spend the 2 nights between appointments in Temple to avoid having to drive the 6-hour round trip between home and the hospital 3 days back to back.  As a result, my mom was at the hotel with my girls, while DH and I took dad to meet the surgeon.

It was a very scary time for me.  We walked in expecting to just talk and it turned into being admitted into the hospital and signing consents for surgery the next day.  We asked lots of questions and then we waited for the room to be available for my dad.  We were in the doctor's office about 3 hours.  After the consent was signed, DH left to go inform my mom what was happening.  As he was leaving he asked me to walk with him.  It was the first time I was able to show just how scared I was.  I don't remember if I cried or not at that point.  He hugged me tightly.  He was in charge of explaining everything to my mom and then calling my brothers.  I was left with my dad trying to stay calm and asking questions.

The entire staff at the hospital was friendly, professional, and most importantly helpful.  No question too stupid to ask.  Nothing too small to be unimportant.  Once they got my dad in his room, they began the process of inserting an IV.  This was the only time I got pissed at the nurses.  I know we were at a teaching hospital but the nurse trainee made my daddy bleed all over his pillow as she inserted the IV.  I had to step out as they did a full body scan of my dad.  This was when I lost my shit.  I just started crying not uncontrollably.  I cried enough to calm myself and get my face straight.  They had made my daddy bleed.  He was in so much pain from the tumor.  We had to talk about the possibility that he didn't survive and what he wanted to happen.  It was not easy.

Because both of my brothers live about 4 hrs away from us, I am in charge of all of the care.  Each time the surgeon called to give us an update, I was the one who had to talk the call and then translate the information for my mom and grandmother, aunts, and uncles who all showed up to be there with my dad. 

I was on the phone with the surgeon hearing all about there being a 2nd cancerous mass.  How this was a very rare presentation.  How this might change the approach to treatment if this cancer mass is different from the other cancer mass.  I was scared.  I knew I had all eyes on me.  My family watching my face for clues until I got over to them with information.  I cried while on the phone.  I know being rare in the medical world isn't good.  I was praying for a fat lump but no it was cancer.

Things we know 3 weeks later:  Dad would not have survived much longer with that mass in place.  He pain was a sign it was getting ready to perforate his intestines.  Once that happens, we would have had hours.  The cancers are the same type of cancer but are two separate occasions of cancer.

I can see now just how close to losing my dad we were before the surgery.  The surgeon moving quickly saved his life.  It is still not easy.  Next week, we should have the start dates for treatment.