Over the past few months, my 80-year old dad has been dealing with some health scares, starting with an egg-sized mass in his neck. Several weeks after it was found, he had surgery to remove it on November 30, 2012. Surgery was considered very successful, as the surgeon was confident that the edges were all well encapsulated, and the mass had been completely removed. But they needed to figure out what had caused this thing. He hadn’t had any symptoms- it was found when he’d gone in for a routine exam to get his thyroid medicine refilled. He had had two biopsies prior to surgery, and then the pathologist had the entire mass to dissect and tear up, and there was still no definitive answer as to the type of cancer this thing was. They knew it was an extremely low grade cancerous tumor that had actually replaced his thyroid tissue on the right side. They felt very certain that it wasn’t going to have any impact on his lifespan…but they still were not sure exactly what it was. It had all of the characteristics of a ‘good’ cancer- but that’s about all they knew.
So, he was referred for a PET scan (fancy CT scan) and to an oncologist (who just happens to be the same oncologist I see- and like). I’ve gone to every appointment with dad (until today), since he’s not up on all of the medical terminology. I’m quite comfortable with medical stuff, being an RN since 1985 and though I have been on disability since 2004, my own medical issues and cancer have kept me somewhat up to date on many things. And, I know how to use the search engines online 😀 I’ve been looking up everything that the docs have said, and I’ve been just as confused as dad. I wanted to hear what the docs said, since dad calls me with questions, and I wanted to have the info as accurate as possible. Sometimes dad’s translation of medical terms is a bit iffy !
At the first oncology appointment, the doc was very straightforward. They needed to rule out multiple myeloma. This is a cancer that dad has been terrified of since his mom died of it in a long, dreadful 9-month death back in 1979 at the age of 74. I remember it fairly well
(I was protected from some of the more sordid details- but I was 15 years old, and knew she was very sick), and knew she had been on dialysis 3 times a week during those months, had a horrible ‘quality’ of life, and had coded twice during dialysis. Back then, they didn’t offer people hospice care like they do now. They went for the maximum treatment, even if they knew it was essentially pointless. Grandma went through hell, and dad remembers that very well.
At that first appointment with the oncologist, dad was told he’d need a bone marrow biopsy, as well as some other lab work. Dad was offered the choice of doing the bone marrow biopsy then, or scheduling it for another day. I piped up and said he needed to do it then. He did NOT need to spend days worrying about it and imagining the procedure in his head (as he asked me about it, since I’ve had five of them). The procedure does sound dreadful. They drill a hole in the back of the pelvic bone to suck out bone marrow. But, these days it’s much easier than the one I saw during nursing school. That was the only thing that nearly dropped me to the floor in a dead faint during all of nursing school. I don’t ‘do’ bone noise. But having them done, I learned that they aren’t that bad. I drove myself to and from three of them (the first two were done when I was in the hospital). So, dad got himself on the exam table, took some deep breaths, and had it done. He did extremely well, however, he didn’t really convince the nurse of his ability to drive home when he answered her with “well, I guess we’ll find out”. Good one, dad. We all felt so safe with that answer.
The oncologist also said during that first appointment that his PET scan did not show the usual ‘holes’ in the bones that someone who had multiple myeloma would likely have. And, dad hadn’t had any symptoms. This whole thing was sort of found by accident. That was all good news. But, the bone marrow biopsy would say one way or another if he had multiple myeloma or any other bone cancer. SO, after that appointment, there were about two weeks of waiting. He saw his surgeon last week and he felt that the results didn’t show MM- and could possibly be something so rare that he might write an article to be published on dad’s case. There’s a possibility that this thing actually started as a couple of very slow growing cells transferred to him while he was still in his mother’s womb. That sort of rare.
Today, I couldn’t go to the follow-up appointment to get the bone marrow biopsy and other lab work results. I’ve got a nasty cold, and nobody in an oncology office with lousy immune systems needed my germs floating through the air. Dad promised that he’d call me as soon as he got home, and he did. NO multiple myeloma. No chemo. No chance of that sort of agonizing death (though treatments and chemo are far different now than they were in 1979). He does have to have some radiation, more as ‘housekeeping’ to be sure that if there are some stray cells they get nuked (the oncologist had mentioned the possibility of this at the first appointment). Dad will have some lines drawn on his neck so they know where to aim the radiation- so it will be visible that something is going on. Until now, I’ve been sworn to secrecy
(well, that hasn’t actually been revoked). But this is good news, and those radiation lines will be visible. People will know ‘something’ is going on. And here’s the bottom line: dad is going to be OK. This will not kill him. 🙂
As much as I love Texas and the 17 years I lived there, I’m so thankful to be here now for my dad. I’m also thankful for the last 10 years that I’ve had to spend time with him. Though face-to-face contact is not as much as I’d like because of my own health issues, we do talk daily, even if he’s on vacation (well, those cruises and other international trips were some blips of time without daily contact, but I didn’t hear that any boats sunk, so I was fairly certain he was safe). When I am able, we do go out and do things together. And he’s always got my back. No matter what, I know that he’s always had my best interests in mind, and now I want to be there for him to help with medical language translations, and just ‘be’ there.
Time is something that no one can ever get back. Once it’s gone, that’s it. I’m trying not to waste what time is left- and that is the kicker- nobody knows when it’s going to be over. I know that one day he will be gone, and I dread that thought. I’ve learned during these 10 years back here, as an adult, that he is, and always has been, much wiser than I ever gave him credit for (I think that’s pretty normal- when I moved to Texas, I was 22 years old and still had that post-adolescent ‘all parents are a bit dim’ outlook). I’ve learned much more about what makes him him, and have so much more respect for him. Being adopted, I could have landed in a lot of places. I’m SO thankful that I was ‘given’ to the dad I got. While no parent is ever perfect, he did an amazing job as a dad.
I thank God that he is MY dad. And I’m glad he’s going to be here for a while longer 🙂