The Drama Has Calmed Down

I drove from New Jersey to Oklahoma to be with my dad.  I drove so my niece would be able to afford to go as well.  I knew if I flew she could not afford it and I thought it would mean a lot to her to be there/here.

When I arrived all my siblings were here and we took turns going to chemo with him.  We learned that if he responds to the chemo he could live for years.  We will not know if he is responding until he has had three treatments.

The difficulty has been trying not to fall victim to hope.  I want him to live so badly, but I do not want to go through the pain I went through with my mother.

One of my dad's biggest concerns has been losing his hair.  Vanity runs deep in this family.  I convinced him to cut his hair short about a week and a half ago.  It actually made him look younger.  Then he noticed his hair was falling out yesterday.  I asked if he wanted me to cut it even shorter.  At first he said no.  Then he finally asked me if I would mind.

I do not cut hair for a living and other than cutting my step-brother's hair once out of the desire to know what it was like...I really do not  know what I'm doing.  But, I was happy to do it.

My idea is that if he gets used to seeing it shorter it will be less shocking when it is gone.

I think it came out pretty good.

Debbie Downer

I have been trying to keep a happy face, but I'm just Debbie Downer right now.  I made a comment on Facebook that I probably should have kept to myself and it brought sympathy, which is not what I want.  Although it was nice to hear some kind words, I don't want to be that person that everyone is afraid to say: "How are you doing?"

"Oh God, don't ask him how he is.  He'll tell you!" 

But I guess I am doing fine for the circumstances.

I finally got the final bid for the house today.  Carlos and I have to look at it and see what we can afford.  If the bank picks up the roof, the mold and the drainage, I think we will be fine.  That is, we will be able to create a livable state for the house.  We were going to completely build out the basement.  The entire house would have beenfinished.  Grand dreams, huh?

I just got a note from my friend James about my situation.  I have never met James in person.  We became MySpace friends years ago.  We have spoken on the phone.  And like everyone else we migrated to Facebook.  James had cancer a while back.  He was complaining to me about not being attractive to anyone.  I said: "What, are you kidding?  You're the perfect cheap date.  The guy would come to your house, watch some tv with you.  Let you throw up a few times and then call it a night."  That doesn't sound so funny right now, but James seemed to like it at the time.  I do not know this man, but I care for him so much.  I feel like we would be best friends if we lived near each other.  He's a great guy.  He told me I have every right to be sad every day for as long as I like.

I told James I am thinking of contacting Extreme Home Makeover.  James said it is time for them to have a couple of Puffs on the show.  Maybe he's right.

This was the last time I went home.

Numbness

So, my dad calls me yesterday and says that his doctor came over to his house and told him he has "stage 4 cancer."  I know it is odd that the doctor came to his house, but the guy really likes my dad and it is the South.  What was really strange is that my dad told me this information like he was telling me about a type of car he has.  He was really clear and very strong.  He told me about a website I could go to and learn about it.

Then today I talk with him and he said he was going to go to church, but he was in so much pain when he went to shave that he just couldn't do it.  He had been sleeping most of the day.  I told him I was going to get my friends to make him some pot brownies.  He laughed and said he couldn't do that.  I asked him why not and he said: "Well, your sisters are here."  I said: "I won't tell.  And, I'll tell them I only brought them for you."  He just laughed.

Carlos, Libby and I had breakfast with his parents.  They are the kindest, gentlest people.  I really adore them.  His dad, Ben, said he was really sorry to hear about my father.  He said he was disappointed because he really wanted to meet him too.  It brought a little tear to my eye that I quickly shoved back down.  I find myself repeatedly saying "I'm fine." when someone asks me how I am.  I'm not fine.  I'm numb.  I think it is just an ingrained response.  I have rarely told anyone when I was in pain.  Why do I do that?

Carlos and I talked later and he said he was really sad.  He realized after breakfast that he will one day lose his parents and he does not have the relationship with them that I have with my father.  I told him he could change his relationship with his parents.  I did with mine.  You just have to open up your life to them.

My father is my best friend.  He knows me as an adult.  Anyone that hears our conversations can always tell.  I love him.  This is one of my favorite pictures of him.

Waking With Ambivalence, Insecurity And Fear

Last night I sent Marilyn a text message asking how dad was doing.  She told me he had not taken a pain pill since 11 AM.  It was about 7 PM.  And, he was eating a good dinner.

This really frightened me.  I remember going to see my mom and she looked better every time.  It created hope.  Hope that I desperately clung to.  Then I remember the pain of acceptance that she was not going to live.  The crash was tremendous.  I don't want this, which makes me feel guilty.

I do not want my dad to die.  I also do not want to suffer from the idea that he is going to survive only to have the rug pulled out from underneath me. I am grappling with so many things right now.  I am scared to death about my house.  I had it all planned out.  My dad was going to come and we would get so much done.

Isn't life funny.  What is the expression about the best laid plans?  

"The best-laid plans of mice and men / Go oft awry"

This is my house.

It's Getting Worse And I'm Not There Yet.

I spoke to my dad today and he sounded tired.  After I got off the phone I sent a text to Marilyn to ask if he was worse.  She said he pooped the bed twice last night.  I am sure this humiliated him.

I am in contract on a home and cannot leave until I get it all lined up.  I am waiting on too many people to get bids in and it's making me crazy.  I am doing a 203K loan and the bank needs bids before they can move forward and close.  The house is a bank owned property and it needs a new roof, a French drain and sump pump, mold removal, a footing problem fixed and more.

I'm kind of losing it.

How I Found Out

Last Friday, 4/9/10, I got a phone call from my sister Marilyn a little before 3:00 PM.  She starts to cry the minute I answer.  As I am trying to discern what she is saying the word cancer comes through loud and clear.  Trying to remain calm I head for the bathroom while talking to her.  I get off the phone and rush into the men's room where I break down.

I am covering my mouth because the room is so reverberant that my sobs are even loud to me.  I know everyone can hear me and it embarrasses me tremendously, but I cannot control my body.  I sat in one of the stalls trying to stop my tears and the noises that are coming out of me involuntarily.  I called Carlos to tell him and got his voice-mail, which made me feel even more alone than I already was.  I do not understand the point of having a cellphone if you are not going to answer it.  Carlos was just out of reach of his phone and I knew that, but my emotions were not mine to control.

After a bit I think I have it under control enough to get out of the office.  I hurry back to my office and cram my things in my backpack.  I start heading for the door and Yaiseth is standing in the hallway.  She calls herself my work bff, but I call her my friend outside of work too.  She is concerned.  She asks me what is wrong just as Carlos calls me back.  I answer and tell him to hold on, thinking I can simply answer her and be done with it, but I start to cry.

I start sobbing again as I tell her my dad has cancer.  She put her arms around me and it felt so good to be held by someone that truly cared about me.  After a minute I lifted my head and told her I had to leave.  She told me not to worry about it.  As I headed toward the elevators I start telling Carlos.  I was trying to hold it together, but he couldn't understand me.  As I pass Naomi I blurt out: "My dad has cancer."  Naomi is about to cry as I pass her and I cannot stop to say anything.  I just had to leave.

Carlos wants to come get me, or meet me at the train, or something.  I told him no.  I said I just had to walk.  I would call him when I was ready to come home.  I got off the phone and left the building.

I just started walking, not knowing where I was going.  I walked the streets of Manhattan with tears running down my face and I didn't care.  The foundation is on Park Avenue and I ended up on 5th.  It was at that time that I realized I had to go to Central Park.

I walked in the entrance just above 59th Street and started looking at the flowers and the pond.  I was able to distract myself by focusing on the beauty of the Narcissus or a little Shredded Maple.  My sister Shirley called and let me know that she loves me.  She also offered to pay for my flight home.  I thanked her for the offer and told her that with the short notice I thought I should use my frequent flyer miles instead. Then Carolyn calls, as if my father's health is going to change our relationship.  She is crying and telling me she was afraid to call, but she wants me to know she loves me.  (She doesn't want me to have the same rights as her, but she loves me.)  I thanked her and told her I love her too.  (I did not tell her that I still do not want to be part of her life.  I was trying to be kind.)  Doris had not called me yet and that worried me.  Doris actually lives near dad.

I decide to call my dad.  He sounds amazing, better than he has sounded in weeks.  He told me he thought the doctor had made a mistake.  "It's not my time to go yet," he says.  He said the doctor gave him this prognosis from a ct scan that he was only in for 15 seconds.  The pain was too great and they had to stop.  He had done a second ct scan that the doctor did not know about.  This convinced me that the prognosis could be wrong.  I told my dad I would wait until we got the results from the full scan before I made any decisions about what I was going to do.  I was already planning to come home for my birthday anyway. (I am buying a house in NJ and my dad was coming up to help me fix it up. I was going to fly home and we were going to drive back.)

I realized that I really want Carlos to be with me, so I called him.  I asked him if he would mind meeting me in Central Park.  He said he would love to.  I continued to look at the beauty of the park while I wait.  When I met him he had brought me a Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwich.  I didn't realize I wanted one, but it really made me feel good.  He held my hand as I showed him some of the things I had been looking at, and then we went to have dinner.  I wasn't really hungry, but food seemed like a good idea.

Afterward we went home.

I had told Carlos a few days before that I was really worried my dad was going to die.  He had been sick repeatedly lately and it was on my mind a lot.  I was already making alternate plans for him helping me with the house.  I really wanted him to be part of it.  I have helped him on some of the houses he has built and he loved it.  He showed the pictures to everyone.  I also thought it would be really nice to have him leave part of himself in my home long after he was gone.  On the way home I told Carlos that if the doctor was wrong that maybe my dad could come and at least be present.

We got home, watched a little tv and went to bed.

My Dad Is Dying

As simple as the title says, My Dad Is Dying. I am about to go home to be with him and know I will need an outlet. So...here it is.

Let me start by saying I lost my mother to cancer in 1990 when I was 25. It was the worst thing I have ever experienced. I was living in California and she in Arkansas. Every time I saw her I was convinced she looked better and was going to beat it.

It.

Cancer.

Such an ugly disease.

My mother kept telling us she was going to get well. I could hear the hollowness of her voice as she spoke. Thinking about it brings back the pain, the denial. I wanted to believe so desperately that she was going to live.

When I found out she was sick two of my sisters and I drove back home to see her. I was going to make sure she knew me as the adult I had become. I wanted her to see me as something other than her baby. The entire way across Interstate 40 I practiced in my head what I was going to say. The things I was going to tell her.

When I walked in the door and saw her I realized that being her baby was perfectly acceptable. I hugged her as soon as I got there. I squeezed too hard and hurt her. I wanted to kill myself for causing her pain.

To my good fortune there was not enough room for me to stay at her house. I had spoken to my father in advance and he welcomed the idea of me staying with him. Lost in my own world I drove to his house. My step mother and he were thrilled to see me. It had been 5 years since I had been home.

I spent the rest of my visit, and each subsequent visit, asking if there was anything I could do for my mom. I cooked dinner for everyone to at least feel like I was contributing.

My last visit home the hospice nurse told us to tell my mother it was okay to let go. My sister Marilyn turned to my mother who for the most part was catatonic and said: "Mom, it's okay. You can let go." My mother suddenly filled the face of the woman who was in her bed and said: "I'll slap your teeth down your throat."

We all laughed and cried. Although my mother had never slapped me she certainly threated exactly like that every time I got smart with her. It was so strange to see this lifeless body suddenly inhabited by the woman I had always known. What was more surreal was seeing that woman leave that body back in a state of lifelessness or non-existence.

We took shifts of staying awake with her. On my shift I caught my mother watching me. She had watched me often. I never knew if she saw me or my father. I look almost exactly like him. All my sisters were asleep and I decided it was time to talk to her.

I asked her if she was frightened and she nodded. I told her it was okay. I told her that we would all be fine. She could let go. Somehow I said all of that without shedding a tear. Recounting it I am crying. Maybe that is because I may have to do it again.

I fell asleep and when my sister Shirley woke me my mother had died. I was so ashamed for letting her die alone. I fell asleep on her and she was left to face death by herself.

I looked at the body that was left in the bed. It was not my mother. Chemotherapy had made her so nauseous she would not eat. She was half her body weight. Her eyes were what held her life and they were now closed. I had the opportunity to see the fire that entered them when she reprimanded Marilyn. I felt the energy as well. As I stood staring at the bed all of that was gone. There was no more energy, no more fire.

I spoke to my father's doctor yesterday and he told me my dad has about a month to live. I cleared it with my work to leave next Thursday, 4/22/10 to go home until the end. I am driving with my niece and my partner. He will fly home on my birthday, 4/25/10, and return for the funeral.

There are many differences this time. The most important one is that my dad does know me as an adult. He is my best friend. I talk to him between 3 and 7 times a week. My father respects me and he is very proud of me. I also know that this is not about me. When my mom died it had a lot to do with me. Although I will miss my father terribly, this is about helping him with this transition.

My dad used to say that he wanted the pallbearers to bring his casket to the grave, open the lid, take one of the Coors beers from the 6-pack on his chest, open it, take a drink, put it back, close the lid, and lower him in. That was back when he drank and I think he was just trying to ensure he had a little more beer for the road. However, if that is what he wants, that is what he is going to get.

Another difference is that all my sisters and I got along fine when my mother was ill. I have nothing to do with one of my sisters now. She called me crying last Friday when we all found out about the cancer. I don't hate her. I just have no reason to have her in my life. She voted for Prop 8 and I do not have room in my life for anyone that feels I do not deserve the same rights as they do. I do not see how my father's death is going to change that. I am not going to do anything to make her uncomfortable, but I think I will be uncomfortable.

Okay, I need to call my dad and say hi.