Everyday Mom

I posted a few weeks ago about my father and his cancer diagnosis.  It helped me in a lot of ways to work through what I had until that point only thought through alone in my head or shared with a couple of very close loved ones.  To write it down and know that I had the support of my readers, even if those who visited didn’t comment, was very helpful.  So, here I go again.  A lot has happened since I last wrote of my daddy’s condition (let’s face it–I can’t keep calling him my father when in real life all I call him is daddy).  He has since been upgraded to Stage IV colon cancer with confirmed spread of the disease to his liver.  It is not curable, and his physicians’ only hope is that they will slow the growth to extend his life as long as possible.  His treatment regimen has started, and while it is standard for this type and severity of cancer, it seems like so much for one person to endure.  He is in his third week of radiation treatments with 24/7 chemotherapy administered through a pump that he carries on his shoulder.  Until my conversation with him this evening, I was happy with his condition during treatment.  Tonight though, something was very different. 

I thought it was too good to be true that everytime I’ve spoken with him via telephone over the last couple of weeks he’s sounded great.  During my last visit, he even looked better than I had imagined he would.  Unfortunately, cancer treatment is finally taking its toll.  Tonight he was nearly too weak to talk.  He’s been sick, can’t eat, can’t sleep, and with all that, is having a really hard time caring for his ostomy.  He is also losing weight again.  That scares me most because he weighs all of 120 lbs soaking wet as it is right now.  How will his body making it through?  I worry so.  I’m praying that he will make it through the next week and half.  He gets to take a one month break before the more agressive, six-month chemo that lies ahead. 

I’m doing all that I can to care for him and support him, but it seems so hard living a couple of hours away.  He needs someone to be there.  I know that someone doesn’t always have to be me, but just like a lot of things in life, it doesn’t feel like it will get done right if I don’t do it.  He’s struggling physically, mentally, spiritually, and financially.  Sadly, I’m slowly coming to the realization that this is not something I can fix.  I’m stuck with just helping him through.  I pray he gets through.  I keep tellling myself that he isn’t dying, but I know that slowly he is.  I guess all I can do is make sure that our relationship is the best it can be in the process even if everything else falls apart.  I’ve never really thought of myself as a daddy’s girl, but I hope it’s not too late.