Here's the scoop on the dadness and the scary-life-threatening-illness. My family is doing ok with the ridiculously shitty news, and we realize it could have been much worse. There are some cancers that have only a 5 percent survival rate. The doctors say if you just gots to have you some cancer, then the one in the lymph system is the one to have. Good survival stats and such. So that is the first positive. A diagnosis that could have been worse. My parents are religious and have spent a lot of time in prayer for many, many friends and that favor is being repaid by all accounts.
My mom thought the first plan of attack after prayer would be to get my dad into this famous cancer hospital in my city of residence. A nurse told me there was less than zero chance of my dad getting an appointment there within the next several months. She said the place is slammed with new patients all the time. It is near impossible to get in.
I called to speak to my mom about this dismal info and learned that my parents were on their way to my city and dad's appointment was the very next day! I asked my mom if she had to threaten people and act ugly to get that appt. And she informed me that she prayed before she called and asked God to help her get that appt.
So far, so good.
So here is what happens when you are diagnosed with cancer and go to a famous cancer hospital: dad went for his initial appt and they made a plan for the week. He spent the whole week being poked with needles, asked questions, having his everything scanned and x-rayed, and he had to have the dreaded bone marrow extraction. Bleh.
He was able to go home for the weekend and today he is getting an em ar eye. My folks don't know about my blog and I'd like to keep it that way, hence the odd spellings and name avoidance. But I digress...
Today is the much dreaded em ar eye. The dadness has this irrational fear of being in a small space, so he dreads this simple test more than any of the crap he's been through so far. They are going to sedate him so they can cram him in that tiny tunnel like chamber. He once told me he'd rather die than go in one of those.
I'm glad he is going along with the program. At first he told them he can't do that particular test.
All in all, everyone is in good spirits and is coping with the situation. In the middle of this week the doctor is going to give my parents a talk about the results of all this testing and staging and will lay out for them a treatment plan. I am nauseous just thinking about it. We are all hoping to hear things like "caught early" and "highly treatable" and my parents want to hear "no chemo" but I just feel like that is unlikely. I hope to God I am wrong about that because I don't want him to have to go through it, but I just think it's going to be unlikely, since he does have a tumor. There is a chance that he will have radiation to zap the tumor and no chemo and that is what they are hoping for. I hope for that too. And then complete remission would be swell.
So pray for us.
I am worried that the treatment will make my healthy vital dad into a sick old man. So the less treatment required, the better.
Incidentally, just before this whole thing surfaced and blew my family's collective doors off, we learned that my cousin who has been terminally ill with metastsized cancer, is now cancer free. She's totally gonna have to get a new hobby, cause dying young is off the list now. I feel like we found out about that when we did for a reason. If she can be cancer free after 6 years of "you're gonna die", then anyone can get better. I want a miracle for my dad.
I have to find food before I faint and hurt myself (again)!
Later gators. :-)