Dad

It’s been a while since I posted an update about my Dad. As you may recall, he was diagnosed with Stage 4, non-small cell carcinoma in September.

In simple terms, that’s inoperable lung cancer.

At that time, he was given a prognosis of 12 months, if he was lucky. He vowed to fight this and not become a statistic and honestly, 6 weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even known there was anything wrong with him.

But lung cancer is an insidious beast that doesn’t rest until it has defeated its victims. He was doing really well on the traditional chemotherapy so the doctor decided to switch him to a chemo pill. That didn’t bode well with his system and he lost a great deal of weight so the doctor had to stop the treatment. I’m shocked at how much he’s declined in the last few weeks.

I took him to the bank on Saturday and while I did his banking at the window, he talked to the bank manager. I’ve taken to spontaneous bursts of tears lately and I started crying at the teller window. The teller, Ernestine, excused herself and went into another room. When she returned, she was wiping tears from her eyes and she whispered, “He’s one of my favorites.”

Me, too, Ernestine. Me, too.

His health has gradually declined and he’s been bouncing in and out of the hospital. I learned yesterday that “getting closer” is the hospice term for when someone is nearing the end of their life. I wish I didn’t know that.

For now, we'll just be grateful for every day we have with him and hope that he can stay comfortable as he "gets closer."