It's been a long time, nearly 6 years since I posted any sort of update on the blog about Dad and his cancer.
Over the summer we were told that his cancer had moved to bone cancer as well. The cancer of a long time smoker had a habit of starting in your mouth, venturing to your lungs, and after a long while either hitting bones or going to your brain. We got bones in cancer roulette.
With his latest scan they said his lungs are in bad shape and covered with cancer, not to mention he has COPD to only make his breathing more troublesome. There's a spot on his head, that's a bit of a sore and is in fact the cancer coming up to the skin there. In non-cancer news he has a torn meniscus that they are unable to operate on since his O2 is steading a struggle.
It's not the news we wanted, but he's been losing weight and noting doing well since this spring.
With that type of news you'll probably see more Emily Blogging Circa 2009. Back when people just journaled their thoughts and feelings. If I write it down I tend to release it, if I don't it stays circling in my head continually.
Cancer isn't linear. So often we see people go into treatment, get some chemo and radiation, ring a bell, and go on home. Check, they're done. But more often than not cancer is treatment, a few good months or weeks of more hope, then a bad scan, a dip in that hope, another treatment tweak, and some more hope yet again. You go from mentally prepping yourself for the worst, to everything being totally fine and cancer just being part of life.
What? You mean your father doesn't have a chemo port permanently in this collar bone area? (joking)
You often know that after a nice peak, that another valley is just around the corner. In a sort of morbid way... we always half expect the valley and enjoy the peaks. We continue on with life as much as we can. As normal as we can.
Since Dad started chemo in 2014 we've been on what we jokingly called his "Make A Wish" trip to Puerto Rico to see where our family is from, we went camping as an entire family, and took all the boys to the beach. I know there are other items in there, but those three stick out the most. I mean who on earth pauses chemo to fly to Puerto Rico? Us I guess.
So if you see me or talk to me in the coming months and think "dang she's moody, or abrasive, or out of character" just remember that there's more under the surface. I'm one that doesn't lean into emotions well. I can do happy and joking, but serious or sad isn't exactly something I'm good at. I mean, I don't even like to watch shows or read books that attempt to elicit those emotions from the viewer.
Be in prayer for us as a family and for Dad, pray for the pain to be controlled as much as possible, and for his breathing (dang if lung conditions aren't scary), for peace and comfort for us all. It's an odd time when the family goofball doesn't feel like himself.
