My dad died on January 3, 2016. Yesterday was his memorial service in my hometown of Northville, NY. My stepmom, brother and sister did an amazing job, from what I hear. Cancer kept Robin and me from attending.
Even though I wasn't there, I have been quite emotional for the past couple days. I even feel physically worse than I have been, and I'll chalk it up to stress.
This morning I decided to hit the treadmill to see if I could shake some of it off. No big whoop, just three or four songs, or 15 to 20 minutes.
I have a picture of my dad waving in front of my treadmill and I talk to him while walking. This morning my mind was like a channel surfing marathon, flooded with snip its of memories of my dad. Big memories and small. Memories from him and Paula attending my college graduation and staying with my mom and Nelson, to once when he made me mow the yard knowing I'd hit his liquor cabinet the night before. One memory was a glimpse of hm being proud of me in my performance of the musical, "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown". I was 17 years old and I was Charlie Brown, and yes, I had to sing.
As I was approaching my fourth and final song, I made a deal. I wanted to know that my dad was good, happy, peaceful. I also wanted a sign that I'd be OK. So I asked for a sign that everything is good with him AND I'd survive cancer. I wanted that sign to come to me in the next song.
The next song that played was "Happiness", from Charlie Brown.
It was rather amazing and I happily accept that all is and will be well.
"Happiness is everything, and anything, at all that's loved by you!".
You were happiness to me, Dad.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Saturday, April 30, 2016
Silver Lining
Everyone knows what I'm about to say.
The silver lining to cancer is weight loss.
I've lost a nice chunk of weight - 40+ pounds - since discovering I have cancer. I cannot personally take any credit whatsoever. It's all because of chemo.
When this all started, I swore I would keep up with drinking a lot of water and walking.
I've done neither. But because of my lack of appetite, the weight is falling off. (Boo Hoo, I know.)
However, there happens to be a down side to my silver lining. Yesterday I was dead heading my geraniums while wearing a sleeveless top. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be my arm fish tailing. Upon closer observation, it was the fat of my upper arm flailing in the wind as I tossed the little dead leaves aside.
I've had body image issues very single day of my life, so really not much rattles me. Cellulite - check. Wrinkles - yep. Age spots - uh huh. Gray hair - what I'd give for hair right now!!!!
But this was different. Ew! I debated as to whether or not to tell Robin. She's seen me at my worst, but technically we are still considered newlyweds, so maybe I should just keep this to myself.
After another minute or two of dead heading, I couldn't keep it in any longer.
"Robin? Come here. I want to show you something. But don't judge me! It's only temporary. When I feel better, I'll figure something out. But come look at this! God, I probably shouldn't let you see this. Just come here and look at this!"
"What? The fat under your arms? You have it on the back of your legs too."
The silver lining to cancer is weight loss.
I've lost a nice chunk of weight - 40+ pounds - since discovering I have cancer. I cannot personally take any credit whatsoever. It's all because of chemo.
When this all started, I swore I would keep up with drinking a lot of water and walking.
I've done neither. But because of my lack of appetite, the weight is falling off. (Boo Hoo, I know.)
However, there happens to be a down side to my silver lining. Yesterday I was dead heading my geraniums while wearing a sleeveless top. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw what appeared to be my arm fish tailing. Upon closer observation, it was the fat of my upper arm flailing in the wind as I tossed the little dead leaves aside.
I've had body image issues very single day of my life, so really not much rattles me. Cellulite - check. Wrinkles - yep. Age spots - uh huh. Gray hair - what I'd give for hair right now!!!!
But this was different. Ew! I debated as to whether or not to tell Robin. She's seen me at my worst, but technically we are still considered newlyweds, so maybe I should just keep this to myself.
After another minute or two of dead heading, I couldn't keep it in any longer.
"Robin? Come here. I want to show you something. But don't judge me! It's only temporary. When I feel better, I'll figure something out. But come look at this! God, I probably shouldn't let you see this. Just come here and look at this!"
"What? The fat under your arms? You have it on the back of your legs too."
Saturday, February 6, 2016
February 4, 2016 - WORLD CANCER DAY
How did YOU celebrate? That's probably not the right word. Honor it? No. Recognize it? Maybe. Remember it? Surely now for the rest of my life.
I love festivities. I'm that person who puts their Christmas tree up before Thanksgiving. And right after it comes down, my Valentine's Day tree goes up.
But this February 4, 2016, the festivities went a little too far.
I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on WORLD CANCER DAY! Had this been a Christmas lights decorating contest between the Griswald's and us, we would have won.
I'd been having a lot of pain last summer and fall. When I finally went to the hospital on Friday the 13th (see how I am about the special days?), 11/13/15, I recall saying something to Robin about at least it being my gall bladder and not my ... "Oh and the MRI showed a mass on your pancreas too. We're gonna need a CT scan."
No problem. Like sometimes a baby's ultrasound shows a weewee when really it's a hoohoo? I knew there was a mistake. A shadow or something.
No mistake. It was there.
They took care of the gall bladder and said we'd have to keep an eye on that mass. Come back in six weeks for a repeat CT scan.
I was still in constant pain and exhausted all the time. I ignored it. I was thinking menopause. I figured when they took out the gall bladder, they stabbed my uterus or something.
No biggie. Let the dust settle from the gall bladder and surely the pancreas stuff will have gone away. Had it been, they would have been all over it immediately, right? Six weeks seemed leisurely. Cancer is not a leisurely thing. It's a scary thing. That fact that they were waiting six weeks was a good thing. It was clearly a matter of them just covering their heinies thing.
But on January 5th, we learned it had doubled in size. My dad had died rather unexpectedly on January 3, so the timing was perfect. I'd had about 40 hours to get over his death.
Still not to worry. I was not jaundice and I certainly did not have inexplicable weight loss. I was certain it was just pancreatitis. They wanted to send me out of town for a biopsy. Wake Forest. A cancer place. A cancer place that specializes in pancreatic cancer. Well, they were just going to rule cancer out. Then I'd continue receiving treatment locally for pancreatitis or whatever it was.
Then on WORLD CANCER DAY, the doctor called. The nice looking, clean cut doctor, whose socks matched his shirt because he probably grew up with Granimals doctor. He called to tell me that I had pancreatic cancer and I was to go back to Wake Forest on February 8th to meet with the surgical oncologist who specializes in pancreatic cancer. We would then formulate the treatment plan.
That's where we are right now. I don't know if it's going to be chemo then surgery, or surgery then chemo. (It feels strange writing these words.)
I spend a little time on the FACEBOOK, shocking to you, I know. (Robin hates when I put the word "the" in front of words, like, "Wanna go to the WalMart?" So the this and the that it is!) I've seen my share of memes, the little postcard thingys. If they don't pertain to me, I just see the gist and move on without a lot of thought.
Within a month and a day, the memes about your dad being in heaven and being your guardian angel and the ones about sharing this rose if you know someone who's been touched by cancer have an entirely new meaning to me.
There isn't anything I can do about my dad being gone, but I can ask him to watch over me and make this less awful than it has to be. And he will.
I love festivities. I'm that person who puts their Christmas tree up before Thanksgiving. And right after it comes down, my Valentine's Day tree goes up.
But this February 4, 2016, the festivities went a little too far.
I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer on WORLD CANCER DAY! Had this been a Christmas lights decorating contest between the Griswald's and us, we would have won.
I'd been having a lot of pain last summer and fall. When I finally went to the hospital on Friday the 13th (see how I am about the special days?), 11/13/15, I recall saying something to Robin about at least it being my gall bladder and not my ... "Oh and the MRI showed a mass on your pancreas too. We're gonna need a CT scan."
No problem. Like sometimes a baby's ultrasound shows a weewee when really it's a hoohoo? I knew there was a mistake. A shadow or something.
No mistake. It was there.
They took care of the gall bladder and said we'd have to keep an eye on that mass. Come back in six weeks for a repeat CT scan.
I was still in constant pain and exhausted all the time. I ignored it. I was thinking menopause. I figured when they took out the gall bladder, they stabbed my uterus or something.
No biggie. Let the dust settle from the gall bladder and surely the pancreas stuff will have gone away. Had it been, they would have been all over it immediately, right? Six weeks seemed leisurely. Cancer is not a leisurely thing. It's a scary thing. That fact that they were waiting six weeks was a good thing. It was clearly a matter of them just covering their heinies thing.
But on January 5th, we learned it had doubled in size. My dad had died rather unexpectedly on January 3, so the timing was perfect. I'd had about 40 hours to get over his death.
Still not to worry. I was not jaundice and I certainly did not have inexplicable weight loss. I was certain it was just pancreatitis. They wanted to send me out of town for a biopsy. Wake Forest. A cancer place. A cancer place that specializes in pancreatic cancer. Well, they were just going to rule cancer out. Then I'd continue receiving treatment locally for pancreatitis or whatever it was.
Then on WORLD CANCER DAY, the doctor called. The nice looking, clean cut doctor, whose socks matched his shirt because he probably grew up with Granimals doctor. He called to tell me that I had pancreatic cancer and I was to go back to Wake Forest on February 8th to meet with the surgical oncologist who specializes in pancreatic cancer. We would then formulate the treatment plan.
That's where we are right now. I don't know if it's going to be chemo then surgery, or surgery then chemo. (It feels strange writing these words.)
I spend a little time on the FACEBOOK, shocking to you, I know. (Robin hates when I put the word "the" in front of words, like, "Wanna go to the WalMart?" So the this and the that it is!) I've seen my share of memes, the little postcard thingys. If they don't pertain to me, I just see the gist and move on without a lot of thought.
Within a month and a day, the memes about your dad being in heaven and being your guardian angel and the ones about sharing this rose if you know someone who's been touched by cancer have an entirely new meaning to me.
There isn't anything I can do about my dad being gone, but I can ask him to watch over me and make this less awful than it has to be. And he will.
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