Requiem Part 2

It's been more than a week since Dad's death.

We held the funeral in the beautifully redone St. Mary's. That Dad never got to see finished...

I've been back to school.

But it's not the same.

It never will be.

Even if it's something in the back of my head,

Reminding me when I wake up.

About that terrible year that Dad's life was slowly sucked away.

He died on January 30th, a few days before Groundhog's Day, which would've been the anniversary of the last time he walked and the last time we took him to the hospital.

Because after that we wouldn't let him leave home.

I can't believe that after that year, in the course of 365 days, that he is so gone.

Everyday, I wake up,
And I'm reminded for a moment,
For the pain a man suffered,
And the inevitable loss his family felt as he died.
I say to myself, "My Dad is dead.
I have one parent who's dealing with the intensity of her own loss,
Which I must say is alot stronger for her."

But everyday, when I go to bed, I try to remember who he was before the cancer.
I remember this quote that has been repeated many times upon Dad's death.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have
kept the faith.

And I ask myself,
Would he be proud of me right now?

Requiem

When I came home Monday, Dad was unresponsive, laying there, in the hospital bed we had moved into the bedroom a week earlier. A priest was standing over Dad as I walked in, speaking some sort of blessing over him. I joined my family around him. Tears flowed freely as we realized how close our dear father was to death.

Over the course of the day, Dad miraculously sustained somewhat stable conditions while family and friends arrived at house. Mom's friend Beth, and Gary's father, Don. Dad survived the night, but remained unresponsive and of declining, hopeless health. By the end of the next day, Uncle David, Uncle Brian, Uncle Jeff, Aunt Kim, and Aunt Amy, as well as a few of their spouses. We convened in Dad's bedroom, sitting by him, standing watch.

His whole family was there in the house.
His wife, laying next to him on the hospital bed, squeezed up against the metal bars.
His siblings, scattered around the bedroom, or throughout the house helping.
His dad, sitting solemnly in the armchair.
His kids, kissing him goodnight and sleeping on the floor to be near to him.
Even his dog Yogi was there, sitting vigilantly next to him on the bed.

A hospice nurse came by, and estimated that he could last a couple of days. By Wednesday, Mom began to prepare us, telling us she anticipated Dad's death sometime that night. But he held on.

By Thursday, Gary's vitals were decreasing. Not shocking, but an ominous sign of his imminent death. Mom, with more certainty this time, told us Dad would probably die during the night. But he held on.

On Friday, a chaplain from St. Luke's came by and prayed a blessing over Dad. Mom cried silently into Dad's shoulder. The chaplain left. And suddenly, Dad's breathing became astoundingly shallow. Mom called us over, intuiting her husband's last moments. His kids came to him and held his hand, whispering "I love you, Dad"s as Gary passed away.

It was no surprise, really, to anybody.

Somehow I thought that would soften the blow.

It didn't.

The problem here is that this is more than the death of a father, or a husband, or a brother, or a son. It's so much more. Words fail to explain it.

(to be continued?)

Just When It Was Supposed To Be A Happy Ending... (Part 3)

Dad was incapable of moving around on his own for that week. We had to carry him around in a wheelchair.

But it wasn't permanent. Eventually, his ankle, which had been sprained after all, got better, and things are almost back to how it was before last Thursday.

But something bothered me...

While Dad was in the wheelchair, I remember, we got our christmas tree and set it up, and began to work on the ornaments. I remember getting out Dad's first Christmas ornament and hanging it up. Dad, from his wheelchair, watched intently. I realized that no matter what happens, Gary is never going to be hanging ornaments again.

That may seem like a small revelation, but the terrible part of it is that it also means I know he won't ever be able to do so many other things. He's too handicapped to ride a bike, communicate, jump, you name it, he'd need help to do it.

So all this worries me.
I feel like we're running out of time.
And we've got no way of getting it back.

I've seen people pray and hope for Dad's health and recovery, but I know that things are beyond that. I hope that Dad dies dignified and proud, feeling good about everything that he's left about. Let's hope for that.

Just When It Was Supposed To Be A Happy Ending... (Part 2)

I rushed downstairs. Things weren't looking good. Mom and Dad had been staying in the basement, and Dad was in the bedroom, door closed. Mom was teary-eyed on the armchair, talking to Grandpa Don. I knew what had happened. Dad had had some seizures, got incredibly weak, and Mom took him to bed.

I sat with Mom for a bit, trying to comfort her. She told me a little bit of the story - Dad, although his walking had improved over the last couple of weeks, as of tonight, couldn't seem to walk. After a while, she asked me to leave so that she and Grandpa could talk.

I complied and went up to my room, trying to understand what this meant. I had gotten so used to how things had been for the past months... this was such a shock, and obviously really bad. It looked like things were going to change for the worse. I cried a bit myself, overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all. It really is terrible, especially for a man like Gary. It's hard to describe.

Eventually the night came to a gradual end. Beth and Alyssa and all their friends and relatives left for home. I packed it in for the night downstairs. I was still sleeping down there while Grandpa was in town. As if sleeping wouldn't be hard enough in my own bed.

But that's not what kept me up.

Dad got up around midnight to go to the bathroom. He fell. It woke me up with a shock. I put his arm around my neck and lifted him up. He could barely support his own weight, even with me helping. Eventually, though, I got him back into his bed.

Unfortunately, he did the same thing in an hour, and this time with worse results. He fell, again, and hurt his foot. I came in and helped him back into bed again. His foot was in pain, and it seemed pretty bad. He was barely be able to move around without it hurting. But there wasn't anything we could really do about it. It was his bad foot. Getting it cast, even if it was broken, wouldn't help us. I went back to bed. I still had to get up in six hours.

As if the situation wasn't bad enough already...

Just When It Was Supposed To Be A Happy Ending... (Part 1)

I should've known. It was too perfect of a day - something had to go wrong...

It was Thursday. The school day went smoothly, and Troy and I waited after school for the Christmas concert. I bought some food for Troy and some friends down at Subway. We came back, and the band started showing up.

We tuned and started the concert. The concert was short, but we did pretty good. We played several old classic christmas carols and then transitioned into more contemporary christmas music - Christmas Time Is Here, Adeste Phidelius, Manheim Steamroller Silent Night, and we finished it off with Wizards in Winter. That last song was the best. Troy, on his guitar, got up center stage with the bass and rocked out.

At any rate, afterwards I hung out with my friends and watched the wrestling match in the Carley Center. Troy took me home.

We had a lot of guests over that night. That's the reason that Mom and Dad didn't make it to the Christmas concert. Really busy night for them. My mom's best friend is Beth, and her daughter Alyssa is a friend of the family living here in Boise. It was Alyssa's birthday Thursday, and consequently, most of her family showed up in our house to celebrate it.

It was kind of awkward walking in - I barely know any of them at all, save Alyssa and Beth. I quickly worked my way through the mass of visitors with drinks in their hands to find Beth.

"How's it going Beth?"
"Good, you?"
"Good." I looked around. "Hey, where's Mom and Dad?"
She sighed. "They're downstairs. Your Dad had a rough night..."

Shit...

Good News

"Good news is blowin' in your window
Good news is knockin' on your door
Good news is comin' round the corner
Good news is rollin' round your floor...."

I really didn't think I'd get to say it, but Dad is getting better and better. He's now able to walk fairly well. His speech still suffers but it slowly and steadily makes progress as well. They took an MRI recently and the tumors had shrunk. Everything is getting better. Even some of his hair is growing back. It really makes me happy to see him these days and be able to watch him recover.

This opens up new possibilities for the family. Before this last month or so, Dad had to constantly be watched and cared for and there would be no taking him anywhere. I can't imagine what it's been like for him... but Mitzi took him to the park the other day for a walk and he did well. We're talking about taking him up to McCall. If things keep improving we could take him to dinner or movies or vacations even.

While it's true that Dad doesn't need to be cared for anymore, he shouldn't be left alone either. He should still be watched. With all this happening this obviously means that we're not thinking weeks and months here anymore. We may still have him for many months and even years. We've been getting by on Gary's insurance (he's still taking care of us, isn't that sweet?) but it's obvious that we can't go on like this. Mom had left her work to take care of Gary, but she's going back to work now, and she talks about maybe hiring a companion for Dad (family reading this, keep it on the down-low. That means you Brian!). It's almost as if things are going back to normal...

So Mom's going back to work, Dad's getting better, and everything's turning up for the better!

"Good news Comin' down the chimney
Good news Knockin' on my door
Good news Leavin' through the window
Good news Can't take no more
Good news Spreadin' all the country
Good news For the young and old
Good news Goin' round the world, now
Good news Too hard to hold back..."

Another piece of lesser good news is that I finally found my camera, so once I get it to hook up to this dam computer right, you can expect some more pictures and such.

"Good news....
Good news...." - Randy Newman

The Situation With Dad

It starts with a Dance.
What makes it worse about Gary is just what a man he is.
If ever there were saints, he's one of them.
If ever there were scholars, he's one of them.
If ever there were good fathers, he's one of them.
And if ever there was true love... Gary and Mitzi have it.

So it's really quite tragic to see him diminished to what he is now - speech is incredibly difficult for him, and he has trouble moving around.

I will never forget that week under the maple tree with friends and family, near and distant, all come together to toast to Gary, the man they all know and love dearly.

So a toast! To Gary! A good Father. A good Husband. A good Doctor. And a Saint.

Last Day Of Radiation

Today was Dad's last day of radiation. We've come a long way since Groundhog's Day. It's been more than two months. As many of you know, my Dad, Gary, has been taking radiation treatment for a while now. And today was his last day.

He's doing alright now. He's still not quite himself, and won't be for about a week. But then, if everything goes well, he will be himself again. He'll recover.

Well it's in fate's hands now. I'll keep him in my prayers.

St. Baldrick's Day

Has anybody heard of St. Baldrick's Day?

For those of you not in the know, St. Baldrick's Day is a fundraiser where people will collect money for children with cancer and then have their head shaved bald. And guess who's participating? Yours truly.

Come March 15, I will be bald. At first I was pretty enthusiastic about it, but now I'm kind of scared I'll look like a moron. But I guess that will make it more of a sacrifice, huh?

For friends, family, and avid readers, you know how cancer has touched my life. I don't have a salespitch or anything, but here's the link:

St. Baldrick's Day Donations
I appreciate all donations.

Groundhog's Day

(St. Lukes Hospital)

I awoke this morning to the sound of Andy desperately whispering to me, "Wake up Joe! Dad's having another seizure!" In a sense of disbelief, I put on some clothes haphazardly and walked into the master bedroom. There was Gary, on the bed, twitching and breathing with difficulty, almost wheezing. Mom was right there too. She's a nurse and called the paramedics as soon as she figured out what was happening. After a few confused moments, watching in pain, they arrived, carried Gary outside onto a stretcher, and put him in the ambulance.

We knew the way and were there before they were. And as soon as they came, we were able to see Dad and comfort him. It was a long time in the hospital before I finally took a look at a clock. It wasn't even 4 AM in the morning, and we had spent an hour or so awake already. And we had spent most of that time standing there in the hospital room next to Dad. We all cried and held hands and tried to comfort each other. I didn't know what to think, and that was partly due to the fact that every single thing that runs through your head in a situation like this seems infinitely inappropriate. And you can't think of anything to do or say to make anything better. What are you supposed to do?

We spent three hours in the hospital. Dad got a CT scan and they sent us home at six so we could all get some sleep. None of us know what this means yet. It could mean radiation. It could mean more powerful pills. It could mean anything. But I'm gonna hope it means nothing. And I'll try to start over today. I don't want this to ruin everybody. If we indeed have limited time with our loved ones, we should spend minimal amounts of it weeping. Comforting, always. I hope to God that this is just a sign, a warning, anything but bad news.

Gary

That's me and my dad, Gary, in McCall, having a great time. The picture was taken a while ago, but I want to make a point. When I left for McCall, I got some comments from a few friends about it. "Good for you. You've seemed kind of stressed lately." Looking back, it was true.

I wish I could blame this is all on the school system, but I can't. And there's no easy way to say this. A couple of weeks ago, my dad (in the picture) had a seizure. He was rushed to the hospital as soon as possible. I was asleep. I didn't wake.

That same day after school my mom explained to me what happened. They had taken an MRI of his head and found the cause of the seizure.

Cancer.

What they found was a large tumor, too big to take out. We had actually known there was an abnormal growth in his brain about a year before this happened, but this was the first time it had actually bothered him. The hospital said that they were going to have to take a snippet of the tumor out to see if they could treat it at all. So after a couple of days, we came back to the hospital and walked Gary into the surgery room. We then waited for more than two hours for the surgery to finish. My sister Jessica was there, as well as my little brother Andy. And of course Mom. She was very calm about all of this. We all waited patiently for him.

After two hours, they told us that they had a sufficent sample of the cancer and the surgery was done. Over the weekend, we repeatedly went and visited him in the hospital. My uncle Kurt and aunt Amy came with their daughter Ali to visit him as well. He smiled at all of us when we came in. Mom slept on the ground in his room the first night to keep him company.

His speech was temporarily limited and he had staples in three areas of his head where they had gone in. Now the staples are out and his speech is recovered. We still don't know what the cancer is like. They said that it was probably low-grade, but that's good news and bad news at the same time. It may be slow-growing, but lower-grade cancers are difficult to treat. So there's nothing we can do but help him recover. Hope. Pray.

This is when I need my friends the most.


"And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love." - Jesus Christ