I guess I have been slacking! Well, my last post was about my son being born and my dad being there through it all. Before my son was a year old my dad was diagnosed with CLL. (Cronic Lymphomia Lukemia) Cancer. It was a heart breaking thing to hear especially since my dad was my rock! He started chemo soon after finding out. Im not sure of the name of the chemo he was on but he was sick 24/7. There were many times he didn't even get out of bed. He went to treatments and was constantly getting his blood drawn and just being stuck with needles! He was secretly scared of needles. My son's first birthday started approaching and I had everything planned out. It was at a golf resort that my mom worked at. I had the room decorated and set up with streamers, balloons and food galore! There was my dad walking in...sick, bald, and getting skinnier. But, he was there. He later told me there was no way he was missing "Goobs" first birthday. He called my son Goober or Goobs haha! It was a very very good day!
The years went by and the cancer spread. He went through many different types of chemo and none seemed to last. They sent him down to Little Rock, which is about 4 hours away to have a stem cell transplant. The doctor almost guaranteed him that this would be the end of the cancer..the answer. He was gone for about 3 months. Let me tell you it was beyond hard! I wanted nothing more than to go down and visit him but I couldn't. He couldnt have any visitors other than doctors due to illness and germs. They informed him that during this process even a simple cold could kill him. I did however call him almost every single day! My son always had to talk to him too which made my dads day. The day he came home was like christmas. A few weeks later he went in for a check up and the doctor was confident that the transplant was a success. Best news ever! My dad started golfing, working again, and just being back to normal. That lasted a month or so then he started feeling down again. I kept telling him he needed to go back to the doctor but truth was he didn't want to. He had a feeling deep deep downt hat it would be nothing but bad news and he didn't want to hear it. It took a while to convence him he needed to go. FINALLY he went in and he was right. The cancer had came back and spread like none other. There he was back to being in bed 24/7, needing help getting up, loosing his hair, and getting skinnier. I knew he would pull through. It was just going to take time. He was beyond a good person. Things like this don't happen to good people. We had a conversation after the news and to be honest it scared it. He didn't want to go through chemo again. It was too hard on him and he had more down days then up. I didn't want him to give up his fight, I wasn't ready for him to give up!! He talked to a few people that had the type of cancer he had and they went to natural way vs chemo. He met with a nutritionist/health food dr. I was behind him 100%. I saw how sick the chemo made him and didn't want that either. Words can't express how happy I was to hear he was going to try SOMETHING! He started looking and feeling good in just a few visits. Got his strenth up, and his weight too. It was a very very happy time. Months went by; he felt he was getting cured and was relieved he hadn't been in a "real" doctors office in sometime. His chemo doctor had scheduled him to have a pet scan just to see his progree. Everyone was confident that the cancer would at least be 1/2 gone, shrunk up, or maybe just maybe gone! It had spread, taken over most everything. There was nothing else they could do. I remember getting the phone call on that Friday afternoon..."They gave your dad 2 weeks to 2 months." I don't even know how to describe the feeling that came over me. I couldn't stop screaming NO, No not my dad. The next day (Saturday) which was also Mother's day weekend my now husband, son and I went over for a visit. My dad was hooked up to a breathing machine. He looked good in my eyes, considering. You could see his ribs, the bones in his face, and his arms were small around then mine. I couldn't help but tear up. We got a few minutes alone in the living room and he sat up and asked me if I was ok. Secretly I was screaming NO on the inside but I told him I was fine. "Im not ready to go but I am ok with it." That's what he told me. Again, screaming No on the inside. He expressed how tired he was, he wasn't "himself" anymore. The cancer had taken over every part of his life. I understood that. I asked if there was ANYTHING he could do. "No." That's not what I wanted to hear. I figured there was something someone could do.
