All I want to do is write a fun, light-hearted post, but I can't ignore the fact that my dad has terminal cancer, and that it has so greatly impacted our lives over the past two weeks. Try as I may, it cannot be ignored.
Our trip to Minnesota was one of the most difficult weeks of my life. Although we went to support and help my family in any and every way possible (and hopefully achieved that goal), the majority of the time we spent there I felt numb and helpless. I could not cry in the presence of my dad. Either that or I just refused. I did not want him to see my fear, nor cause him to focus any more on the negative. All of this has been so very hard for us as it is.
We spent most of our time at the hospital, but rented a room at the Super 8 to provide the opportunity to get away and re-group at the end of each day. This proved to be a good choice. We think our rental car may have worn a permanent trail on the road leading from the motel to the hospital. Back and forth. Get up early, stay up late. Run, run, run! Go, Jane, go!
Let me take a moment to just say how amazing my husband has been through all of this. Last week my dad repeatedly referred to Jeromy as a "tower of strength". Once we heard that my dad would not be returning to work, Jeromy volunteered to help look into early retirement. We quickly realized how unprepared my parents were for any event remotely of this size and that this would become more of a project than we bargained for. Still, Jeromy worked tirelessly to get everything sorted out and set up. We are back in Maryland and STILL working on the financial situation. (SO overwhelming.) I am extremely grateful for such a supportive, compassionate, and resourceful man who is willing to take on a load such as this for his father-in-law. He allowed me to spend much needed time just sitting with my dad while he ran ragged collecting a million official documents and applying my dad to every single available service. He is, indeed, a tower of strength.
It was absolutely fantastic to see familiar faces appear now and again at the door of my dad's room. Besides his immediate family, my dad had at least two or three different visitors every single day! Some of whom I hadn't seen in quite some time! It was nice to not have to drive all over the state to see so many family and friends, as is normally the case when we come to visit. This time everyone drove to see us! If there was one, the visitors were probably the highlight of the trip. As each visitor turned to leave I tried to stress how much of an encouragement it was for them to come, and to make sure they understood the seriousness of my dad's condition. Without being specific I was hoping they would consider paying another visit in the near future, whether in the hospital or elsewhere. To continue the support they have so far personally and publicly given. He needs it. I would be there if I could.
Probably the most difficult moment was seeing my dad for the first time. He used to be ripped. Every single day of his post-Navy existence, he has done his push-ups. He might have missed a day here and there due to an occasional case of the flu, but my dad's faithful morning push-up routine could squash the best of the best! Seeing my dad in the hospital, though, I could tell his push-ups have long since taken a sabbatical. In fact, he told us that he hasn't exercised in over two months! That should have been a sure sign something was up, although he didn't get checked out until weeks later. It was absolutely horrible to see my dad looking the way he did, especially that first night. He has lost literally every ounce of his muscle, and his skin looked like his mother's (my grandmother's) skin well into her 80's. The person I saw in that hospital bed was not my dad, but reality has it that it was and is.
The short of my dad's prognosis is that cancer will take his life. The doctors were quite clear that he has advanced stage 4 colon cancer, and because it has already devoured 3/4 of his liver and has spread to even other organs, no amount of drug therapy can cure this monster. My dad will receive what they call "palliative" care, which will involve chemo to hopefully stop future spread of the cancer cells, and even possibly shrink some of what is already there. Basically a life-prolonging method.
According to the doctors, my dad has 6-8 months to live if he decides against chemo treatment. With chemo, however, and depending on how his system responds to the drug, he could potentially live another 2-3 years. Either way, the news is hard to take.
Our trip to Minnesota was one of the most difficult weeks of my life. Although we went to support and help my family in any and every way possible (and hopefully achieved that goal), the majority of the time we spent there I felt numb and helpless. I could not cry in the presence of my dad. Either that or I just refused. I did not want him to see my fear, nor cause him to focus any more on the negative. All of this has been so very hard for us as it is.
We spent most of our time at the hospital, but rented a room at the Super 8 to provide the opportunity to get away and re-group at the end of each day. This proved to be a good choice. We think our rental car may have worn a permanent trail on the road leading from the motel to the hospital. Back and forth. Get up early, stay up late. Run, run, run! Go, Jane, go!
Let me take a moment to just say how amazing my husband has been through all of this. Last week my dad repeatedly referred to Jeromy as a "tower of strength". Once we heard that my dad would not be returning to work, Jeromy volunteered to help look into early retirement. We quickly realized how unprepared my parents were for any event remotely of this size and that this would become more of a project than we bargained for. Still, Jeromy worked tirelessly to get everything sorted out and set up. We are back in Maryland and STILL working on the financial situation. (SO overwhelming.) I am extremely grateful for such a supportive, compassionate, and resourceful man who is willing to take on a load such as this for his father-in-law. He allowed me to spend much needed time just sitting with my dad while he ran ragged collecting a million official documents and applying my dad to every single available service. He is, indeed, a tower of strength.
It was absolutely fantastic to see familiar faces appear now and again at the door of my dad's room. Besides his immediate family, my dad had at least two or three different visitors every single day! Some of whom I hadn't seen in quite some time! It was nice to not have to drive all over the state to see so many family and friends, as is normally the case when we come to visit. This time everyone drove to see us! If there was one, the visitors were probably the highlight of the trip. As each visitor turned to leave I tried to stress how much of an encouragement it was for them to come, and to make sure they understood the seriousness of my dad's condition. Without being specific I was hoping they would consider paying another visit in the near future, whether in the hospital or elsewhere. To continue the support they have so far personally and publicly given. He needs it. I would be there if I could.
Probably the most difficult moment was seeing my dad for the first time. He used to be ripped. Every single day of his post-Navy existence, he has done his push-ups. He might have missed a day here and there due to an occasional case of the flu, but my dad's faithful morning push-up routine could squash the best of the best! Seeing my dad in the hospital, though, I could tell his push-ups have long since taken a sabbatical. In fact, he told us that he hasn't exercised in over two months! That should have been a sure sign something was up, although he didn't get checked out until weeks later. It was absolutely horrible to see my dad looking the way he did, especially that first night. He has lost literally every ounce of his muscle, and his skin looked like his mother's (my grandmother's) skin well into her 80's. The person I saw in that hospital bed was not my dad, but reality has it that it was and is.
The short of my dad's prognosis is that cancer will take his life. The doctors were quite clear that he has advanced stage 4 colon cancer, and because it has already devoured 3/4 of his liver and has spread to even other organs, no amount of drug therapy can cure this monster. My dad will receive what they call "palliative" care, which will involve chemo to hopefully stop future spread of the cancer cells, and even possibly shrink some of what is already there. Basically a life-prolonging method.
According to the doctors, my dad has 6-8 months to live if he decides against chemo treatment. With chemo, however, and depending on how his system responds to the drug, he could potentially live another 2-3 years. Either way, the news is hard to take.
I realize God still works miracles, and I believe that He has both power and ability to heal my dad completely, but I also know that He most often does not work beyond or in spite of natural processes. I believe God could very well prolong my dad's life beyond what the doctors project. Yet, if God were to completely heal my dad this side of heaven, there are many intricate smaller miracles that would need to transpire within the bigger one for that to happen.
For instance, the major surgery my dad underwent just before our arrival forced the surgeon to remove 9 out of 20 feet of his colon for the reason that the blockage of perhaps 6 or more months had built up an unbelievable pressure and had caused the colon to literally burst open on the operating table. Yeah. Not pretty. It's not like he can grow back 9 feet of colon! Also, the fact that the cancer is already stage 4 (the highest stage and the fastest spreading) implies "point of no return". A body can safely live on 1/4 of a liver, but it is difficult for me to believe that can last for very long without complications.
Another huge hurdle my dad needs to overcome (and before any of this chemo can start) is recovering from surgery itself. He needs to be at least a good 6-7 weeks completely recovered before his blood cells and immune system can take another harsh blow. As it is, my dad was in the hospital for 2 full weeks, and just yesterday he needed a blood transfusion. They finally discharged him, though because of recent infection his wounds have not yet healed. Also, there are still huge amounts of swelling, and he has yet to regain some sort of appetite. Since the surgery, he has been forcing food down his throat, so that it takes him nearly an hour to finish a meal instead of the typical 5 or so minutes it used to take him to polish off a couple good helpings. So he has a long way to go.
Another huge hurdle my dad needs to overcome (and before any of this chemo can start) is recovering from surgery itself. He needs to be at least a good 6-7 weeks completely recovered before his blood cells and immune system can take another harsh blow. As it is, my dad was in the hospital for 2 full weeks, and just yesterday he needed a blood transfusion. They finally discharged him, though because of recent infection his wounds have not yet healed. Also, there are still huge amounts of swelling, and he has yet to regain some sort of appetite. Since the surgery, he has been forcing food down his throat, so that it takes him nearly an hour to finish a meal instead of the typical 5 or so minutes it used to take him to polish off a couple good helpings. So he has a long way to go.
All this to say he should have been out of the hospital a week ago, but for these hinderances . And by "out of the hospital" I don't mean "at home". The next stepping stone for my dad is a Transitional Care Unit (TCU). This is basically a rehab facility where he will continue physical therapy and also begin occupational therapy, until he is strong enough and capable of living at home and caring for his wounds and ostomy bags. (There are two bags, due to the discarded portion of the colon.) My parents have already chosen a TCU, one that is within walking distance for my mom. In fact, he was just transfered there this afternoon. Part of the facility is a nursing home, but we are trying to steer everyone away from using that term so my dad doesn't get the feeling we are putting him "out to pasture". That's just the way these places opperate. Most serve several purposes. But yes, old fogies also live there. And regardless, this is a temporary situation. Yet, it is only after my dad serves adequate time at the TCU can anyone even begin to think about chemo. Long, long road.
There are so many questions our human hearts beg to ask:
*Why did my dad endure 6 whole months of nasty symptoms before even considering getting checked out?
*And, with the unbelievably steep health insurance premium he was paying every month, why did he never pursue regular physicals?
*Why did he refuse long and short-term disability through his company?
*Why don't my parents have life insurance?
*Why has my dad always chosen to remedy the immediate need instead of looking to the future?
*Why didn't he look into VA benefits from the start?
*Why did he allow a lay-off from a job he was good at to force him into a trucking job with erratic, unhealthy hours?
But we really can't ask, and when it comes down to it, we really don't want to. The worst thing we could do is to resent my dad for causing this mess. What good would that do? Sure, there are some better choices he could have made in his life, but he only did what he thought was best at the time. He is not perfect, and I cannot say I would have done any better! The truth is that cancer is part of my dad's life, and we can only look to today and pray for tomorrow.
(However, what I will say in light of the above questions is that we certainly learned a BIG lesson with regard to planning for the future! DO IT!)
Of course, my dad's life is in God's hands, no matter how you look at it. His days have been numbered since Eternity past, as with each of us. Cancer is God's will for my dad, whether he had caught it a year or two earlier, or whether he had delayed getting checked out even longer, in which case his colon could had exploded internally and left him to die on the spot.
It is what it is and we can only look forward with hope. The assuring, redeeming kind of hope.
More than our concern for my dad's physical condition is our concern for his spiritual. You spend one minute with the man and you can see depression all over his face. And for good reason. He is dealing with major change in his life. However, he did seem to perk up whenever anyone would stop by. But he won't read, including the Word, and that is troubling to me. I just hope some person will come alongside him and mentor him through this. Point him repeatedly back to Christ. That is his most pressing need right now. It is hard to believe that a man so extremely intelligent in matters of theology as he, can allow this trial, painful and scary as it may be, to get him this down. He is a child of the King, after all! In fact, while looking for certain documents at the house, we ran across his college doctrine notes from the 1970's, and I'm talking whole drawers full! This is his time to finally learn to live out the theology he claims to know. What good is knowledge unless it is useful?
Whatever we believe about God's will, we know that this path is chosen for us. We must take it because going back is not an option. This time in my family's life is designed to bring us closer to Him and to give us new ways in which to serve as God's "hands and feet". My dad's old college roommate offered my dad a wonderful statement while stopping in for a visit last week. He said, "Gary, this cancer is not all about you. This cancer is certainly an opportunity for God to extend His grace to you, but this cancer is also for you to allow that grace to flow to others by the testimony of your faith, both to Christians and non-Christians, to family, friends, nurses, doctors, and to those you have yet to meet."
And so it is with me and everyone else remotely touched my dad's cancer. I know that this is his fight of faith, but I wish I could help him believe that all this is for God's glory, and that he shouldn't waste this opportunity to live out God's grace. These are tough issues, and I struggle daily with them myself. I just hope he "gets" this message, and sooner rather than later.
Right now my dad is operating on empty. We keep trying to encourage him and bring Water to his dry Spirit, but what he does with all of that is solely up to him. We can't make him read his Bible, pray, or meditate on spiritual truths. All I know is that if my dad can firmly grasp these concepts, there is great potential for the next few days, weeks, months, and hopefully years to becoming the very best of his life and his closest walk with the Lord. THIS is the kind of miracle I am hoping and praying for!!!
Chemo or not, we trust in Christ! He is the hope of our salvation and our Rock!
"Now I know that the Lord saves his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with the saving might of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright. O Lord, save the king! May he answer us when we call" (Psalm 20:6-9).
*****
For anyone who would like to send my dad a note, below is the address. Also, if you are ever in the neighborhood, my dad would love a visit. He is currently staying at St. Louis Park Plaza. I've also listed that address below.
Gary Nelson
3341 Zinran Avenue South
St. Louis Park, MN 55426
St. Louis Park Plaza
3201 Virginia Ave S
Minneapolis, MN 55426
(952) 935-0333
There are so many questions our human hearts beg to ask:
*Why did my dad endure 6 whole months of nasty symptoms before even considering getting checked out?
*And, with the unbelievably steep health insurance premium he was paying every month, why did he never pursue regular physicals?
*Why did he refuse long and short-term disability through his company?
*Why don't my parents have life insurance?
*Why has my dad always chosen to remedy the immediate need instead of looking to the future?
*Why didn't he look into VA benefits from the start?
*Why did he allow a lay-off from a job he was good at to force him into a trucking job with erratic, unhealthy hours?
But we really can't ask, and when it comes down to it, we really don't want to. The worst thing we could do is to resent my dad for causing this mess. What good would that do? Sure, there are some better choices he could have made in his life, but he only did what he thought was best at the time. He is not perfect, and I cannot say I would have done any better! The truth is that cancer is part of my dad's life, and we can only look to today and pray for tomorrow.
(However, what I will say in light of the above questions is that we certainly learned a BIG lesson with regard to planning for the future! DO IT!)
Of course, my dad's life is in God's hands, no matter how you look at it. His days have been numbered since Eternity past, as with each of us. Cancer is God's will for my dad, whether he had caught it a year or two earlier, or whether he had delayed getting checked out even longer, in which case his colon could had exploded internally and left him to die on the spot.
It is what it is and we can only look forward with hope. The assuring, redeeming kind of hope.
More than our concern for my dad's physical condition is our concern for his spiritual. You spend one minute with the man and you can see depression all over his face. And for good reason. He is dealing with major change in his life. However, he did seem to perk up whenever anyone would stop by. But he won't read, including the Word, and that is troubling to me. I just hope some person will come alongside him and mentor him through this. Point him repeatedly back to Christ. That is his most pressing need right now. It is hard to believe that a man so extremely intelligent in matters of theology as he, can allow this trial, painful and scary as it may be, to get him this down. He is a child of the King, after all! In fact, while looking for certain documents at the house, we ran across his college doctrine notes from the 1970's, and I'm talking whole drawers full! This is his time to finally learn to live out the theology he claims to know. What good is knowledge unless it is useful?
Whatever we believe about God's will, we know that this path is chosen for us. We must take it because going back is not an option. This time in my family's life is designed to bring us closer to Him and to give us new ways in which to serve as God's "hands and feet". My dad's old college roommate offered my dad a wonderful statement while stopping in for a visit last week. He said, "Gary, this cancer is not all about you. This cancer is certainly an opportunity for God to extend His grace to you, but this cancer is also for you to allow that grace to flow to others by the testimony of your faith, both to Christians and non-Christians, to family, friends, nurses, doctors, and to those you have yet to meet."
And so it is with me and everyone else remotely touched my dad's cancer. I know that this is his fight of faith, but I wish I could help him believe that all this is for God's glory, and that he shouldn't waste this opportunity to live out God's grace. These are tough issues, and I struggle daily with them myself. I just hope he "gets" this message, and sooner rather than later.
Right now my dad is operating on empty. We keep trying to encourage him and bring Water to his dry Spirit, but what he does with all of that is solely up to him. We can't make him read his Bible, pray, or meditate on spiritual truths. All I know is that if my dad can firmly grasp these concepts, there is great potential for the next few days, weeks, months, and hopefully years to becoming the very best of his life and his closest walk with the Lord. THIS is the kind of miracle I am hoping and praying for!!!
Chemo or not, we trust in Christ! He is the hope of our salvation and our Rock!
"Now I know that the Lord saves his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with the saving might of his right hand. Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright. O Lord, save the king! May he answer us when we call" (Psalm 20:6-9).
*****
For anyone who would like to send my dad a note, below is the address. Also, if you are ever in the neighborhood, my dad would love a visit. He is currently staying at St. Louis Park Plaza. I've also listed that address below.
Gary Nelson
3341 Zinran Avenue South
St. Louis Park, MN 55426
St. Louis Park Plaza
3201 Virginia Ave S
Minneapolis, MN 55426
(952) 935-0333
8 comments:
I saw your comment on the LPM blog and I must tell you that all you are relating is so familiar. My husband had a similar diagnosis in 2002. I would love to talk to you and offer you the resources, both Spiritual and medical that we have found since his diagnosis. If you would like, you may email me at lucyrhodes@gmail.com and I will arrange to contact you by phone. We were told that my husband's only hope was a miracle and that nothing was available medically that would help. Our journey from that dispair unti today 5 years later is incredible. He is still alive after his colon/liver cancer diagnosis and has been able to work and live a good life. He still takes chemo, but it is manageable. There is so much I'd love to share. Contact me if you feel led. Your heartfelt writing reminds me of our daughter who was 27 when her Dad received his terminal diagnosis. God's grace truly is sufficient. God bless you, you are all in our prayers. Lou Ellen Russell
Oh honey -- I know we're actual strangers to one another and we live a nation apart, but I really wish I was there to just give you a big hug. You have to just feel pulled a million directions. Please know that you continue to be heavy on my heart, and I'm still praying for you here.
As for your Dad and his not reading anything, be encouraged. His life changes have to just be stunning, and I'm sure that as time passes, he'll pick everything up again. In the meantime, would he be open to books on tape/CD, or the Bible on tape/CD? Some good books I've read (or have been reading) lately is Waking the Dead by John Eldredge and The Blessing of Brokenness by Charles Stanley, and I'm sure there are many more specifically relating to his needs.
I'm also available if you need to talk. Let me know...
Tara, thank you for directing us here from facebook. I am blessed by your faith and your choice to be honest before the Lord and to deal with this whole situation from His perspective rather than your own. That is so difficult in times of trial and daily pain. I am praying for you and your family. I am reminded of the truth John Piper so adequately addresses in "Don't Waste Your Life": if we fail to seek our enjoyment in God and His glory in all things, our lives will be a waste. I will add to my prayers that Uncle Gary will seek the Lord and His strength at this time, for his own enjoyment and God's glory. I must admit that for a long time after our last miscarriage I struggled with approaching the Lord in my quiet time, and I neglect to do so way too many times. I just didn't want to let Him comfort me - pride and resentment were the motives. BUT once I did return to the Lord, to His life-giving Word and to communicating with Him in prayer, I experienced an amazing, miraculous difference in my outlook. May the Lord get the victory in the spiritual battle your dad is facing. Love to you and your family. And I'm impressed with Jeromy's foresight and responsibility in this situation.
Lisa
Wow! I am so sorry that you and your family are having to endure all of this. But I am praising God that you know Him. I often think of so many who go through trials, such as yours, without the Lord...like my entire family...it breaks my heart.
But you and yours have so much hope! I'm thankful for your husband in your life. A "Pillar of strength", that is awesome!
Thanks for being so open and real too!
My dearie, I am so sorry to hear this news. I must say as always, your writing, even on this sad topic, is astounding. I will be in touch.
Tara,
Thanks for the blog. It helped us to know better what to pray for. I know this is a difficult time with you being so far away from your folks. I'm glad you & Jeromy were able to be there for a week to help straighten things out. Your dad is a strong man, and I know he will find his way again spiritually. This must be so difficult for him also to try and process. And your Mom too. Let them know we will be praying for physical strength for both and healing for your dad. Let me know if there's anything we can do(even from SD). Love, Laura Orr
Tara, I just found your blog. Thanks for the info. It was nice to see my husband quoted in your entry. We want to be an encouragement to your family. Is your dad still at the care facility? We don't get to the Cities much, but we will try to get in touch with your mom and dad. Your dad's name is on our church prayer list. Now we know how to pray more knowlegably for him and all of you. I'm sure it is hard for you to be away from your mom and dad. My e-mail address is musicluv@charter.net if you want to communicate that way.
"Aunt" Nancy
I just thought of you and wanted to check on your dad's condition. I am sorry that you all are going through such a difficult time, but it is wonderful to know that you are trusting the Lord for His comfort and strength. We will continue to pray for your dad and the rest of you. I wonder how your mom is doing. May you find the Lord very precious in these days! Praise the Lord for your supportive husband! I had a bout with cancer in 1999 and found the Lord so very precious and all-sufficient through it all. I am praying that it will be the same for your parents! Proverbs 3:5&6
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