The Big C

We found out about 9 weeks ago that my dad has cancer-a very aggressive cancer, the kind that makes your doctors tell you you're "up a creek with half a paddle." I was reluctant to talk about it. It's not my cancer and it feels self centered to talk about how it's affecting me. It's not "mine" to share. It's not burdening me and whatever I feel about it is inconsequential. My dad is a pretty private, conservative person but now the cat's out of the bag, so to speak.

I headed to Denver about 2 weeks ago with Anias to help him out post surgery and there's a lot of good that was done! His tumors were completely removed with cancer free margins! He got his catheter out early and is walking almost half marathon distances every day. The cancer was not in his lymph nodes! So much good.

In spite of the fact that typically this cancer is super treatable and slow growing and in spite of the fact that he got tested every year-the cancer had spread. His doctor even thinks it was missed for up to 10 years to get to the size it was at the time of his surgery. It had grown into a membrane and it's possible, very likely actually, that this is not done.

At his follow-up appointment his doctor, a tell it like it is, stoic, but friendly sort of guy, told us that he has a 60% chance of radiation, a 20-30% chance of being absolutely fine (YAY!) and a 10-20% chance of having incurable cancer. Our initial reaction was hope. The chance that he's done is a pretty good one, after all, but while we were positive dad's reaction was at best apprehensive. If someone told you there was a 1 in 5 chance that you were on your way to death it would probably freak you out too. I was being insensitive shutting down his fears with my positivity instead of validating him. Regardless, I've said it before and I'll say it again: I believe we have favor.

Now you tell me that and I'll probably react with anger. Anger at the whole situation has permeated my life. When I'm told that enough people are praying for him there's no way he won't be cured I scoff. Everyone dies, afterall, and I don't believe that if we reach a certain number threshold dad will suddenly be safe. If I'm dismissed when voicing my concerns- told that so and so was fine and dad will be too, or "oh- that's nothing! that's not a 'bad' cancer" my blood will boil a little. Probably a safe reaction is compassion or even platitudes. I think anger just feels more empowering than fear or sadness so please forgive me.

Death is a part of life- and right now it's looming, threatening, teasing. Even if death himself isn't hanging around waiting out  time his shadow is. I frankly don't think it's fair that my dad did all the right things and he still has been poked and prodded and sliced. So- there it is. I'm vacillating between anger and radical acceptance- and it's not even happening to me. Regardless, I believe that God has plans for us, plans for hope and a future. I believe that even if dad does die from this, which I'm not saying will happen nor am I even saying that it's likely, but if he does- God's plan will be perfect. His ways are not our ways. I genuinely hope I have 50 more years of memories with my dad, but for now I'll just appreciate him and appreciate that the cancer has made me soak it up.

Anias: Week 45

One of my favorite things to do is to holler into buckets and baskets. I laugh when my hair is brushed and I like to give the sweetest back pats. I swing my arms when dancing and I got my 5th tooth! I headed back to Colorado this week! I went to the splash pad for the first time and got over my fear quickly

Week 46

 I stayed with my great aunt Jodie for a while and was terrified of her dogs! Then- they grew on me and after I played with their feet a little I grew to like them and even pet them. I pick my nose constantly and unroll toilet paper before trying to put it back on the roll. I point, shake my head no, and cruise between objects. I got my 6th tooth in and I pretend to talk on the phone.

Week 47

I will crawl up to you and grab your hands so I can walk across the room. I try to sneak things into the toilet and drink water from the tub. When you tell me no I crawl as fast as I can to do the forbidden thing. I waved bye bye for the first time. All day long I crawl into my car then cry and shake it- trying to make mom get the hint that I would like to go for a walk, thank  you very much.

Eli:

Taking the bricks out of the ground

I asked mom, "What is blood?" because I was wondering what Jesus uses to heal us with. I like Papa and know he belongs to Grandma. I told mom I want our next dog to be named Yopie. When I was getting into trouble I stopped and prayed, "Thank you God for protecting me from spankins". I always thank God for my cousins and I always say "This is an interesting baby" when referring to Anias. I asked mom, "do you want to go get icecream when the kids go to bed?" I told mom that the moon does NOT belong in day time (he saw the moon and sun out at the same time). I think the pavers are nice for giving us a new road and I pretend that my play tunnel is an airplane or a pipe. I made up a song that says 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, now we're done, we're out of time! I say funny things like "20 single pounds!" and "I've had enough showers." I told mom I needed my light on in my room because a Bergen was outside. I celebrated being completely potty trained! Even at night!