Mar 06, 2003 - 5:06 pm
My beloved dad was admitted to the hospital in early february with pneumonia. Despite the regimen of antibiotics, it was very hard to treat. He then had a bronchoscopy and biopsies which showed lung cancer. A CT scan that followed showed mets to spine, hip, liver and spleen. He was very physically deconditioned from his pneumonia bout and was becoming increasingly short of breath from the tumor. He was discharged to his home with my mom last week. I went to see him, with my two year old son, husband and two week old daughter last saturday. I gave him a back and neck massage, got him to a chair with Oxygen in tow and washed his hair and face for him. The activity was way too much for him to handle it seemed although his will to fight it was so strong. As we were leaving I knew that there was no returning from there. His Cancer was stage 4, T3, N2, M1. He lost his candidacy for chemo with the quick demise of his physical health. I knew when I left him that night that he approached a point of no return, he knew it first and foremost but didn't want to give in. Last night, he was taken to an emergency room accompanied by my mother and brother for respiratory distress. The 24 hours preceding that was awful. He swelled up in all of his extremities, they were cold and hurt, his breathing became increasingly labored and he had that croupy, rattly cough. Once in the ER, the nurse quickly had a DNR for my mother to sign and administered my father morphine. One and a half hours later he passed. I spoke with my dad early in the morning that previous day, told him how much I loved him and how bitterly angry I was for him, that he was being robbed of sweet years with his grandchildren and they are being robbed of him. He seemed resolved to the idea that the end was coming, he told me to always listen to what your body is telling you.
I want to express my deepest empathy, love and hopes for anyone who is losing or lost someone to cancer. It's ugly, unfair and uncompromising in it's end stages. I never ever would have imagined this as no one does for their loved ones.
In loving memory of my father William.