It's The Dying Part That Hurts

I’ve come to Chicago to surprise Dad for his birthday tomorrow. Lucky and I got here last night and I’m not sure whether I’ll see Dad or not until tomorrow. His girlfriend is throwing him a B-day party and he doesn’t know about the party or me. I’ll call her in a bit to see how she wants to work the surprise part.

Dad, David and Laverne, Dad’s girlfriend, went to see the Dr. yesterday to run through whatever kind of treatment program they’re going to use on him. I was driving here when Dad called and told me about the things that would be happening to him. It seems they’ve got a decent enough plan and Dad seems pretty comfortable with it.

I guess they’re going to put a stint in his arm that somehow dries up his testosterone. From what I can gather, the cancer feeds off testosterone and the less there is in his system the easier it is to fight the cancer. After they get that under control they’ll start radiation and whatever else they feel needs to be done. The Dr’s. have told him that the odds are great that he will outlive the cancer.

Dad and I were talking about the whole thing and he seems pretty ok with the whole thing. He keeps saying he’s 76 years old so what can he expect? He figures he’s only got five or 10 years left anyway so this isn’t really any big thing.

On my way to Chicago he called me and while we talked he said that he wasn’t worried because he wasn’t afraid of dying. We talked about that for a minute and I told him I felt a little like that myself with only one difference. I told him that I thought what he really meant was that he wasn’t afraid of being dead. It’s the dying part that can be so difficult on so many levels. I mean there’s the obvious physical pain that you feel but there is also, I would think, an incredible amount of emotional pain that goes along with it. We talked a bit about that and he seemed to understand what I was trying to say.

I think he’ll be alright with this whole thing. David will do what he can to keep those of us that don’t live here informed of any developments and I talk to Dad on quite a regular basis. I know he doesn’t want to go through the treatment, not because of any associated pain that goes with it, I think it’s mainly because it’ll make him do things. He’s never really been one to want to have to do anything and with this he sort of has to.

Laverne will make sure he takes whatever medication he needs to take and that, I can attest to, is not an easy task. He gets handed his little packet of pills and he’ll start to open the package and start talking to someone and he’ll just plain forget what he’s doing and set them down. It happened last night at dinner. He had the packet in his hand and he started telling me some stories of when he was in the army. He totally forgot about the pills. It truly does just slip his mind. I noticed it and told him to stop and take his pills. Laverne made a comment about how this is what happens all the time. He agreed. I totally get it.

I’ll be going over there for his Birthday BBQ and I’m sure he’ll be incredibly uncomfortable and want nothing more than for everyone to leave so I’ll just sit there by him and let him tell his stories. I kind of turn off the brain when listening but I realize that these times won’t last so I can make the effort. He’ll never know the difference.