He's Gone

Cancer the word no ever wants to hear no matter how small it might be. The disease is a poison that consumes the ones closest to you or you yourself. The new cancer estimate for 2020 is 1.8 million people with estimated cancer deaths of 606,520. (Taken for cancer.org) These are some scary numbers to look at for anyone.

My worst nightmare began back in 2016 though. My grandfather went to the doctor in January of that year for a lump on his tongue. After a biopsy was done it back with the one word I feared the most Cancer. Between his family physician and myself we battled with the insurance company to find an oncologist, radiologist, and surgeon that was their network of service. This took a month to accomplish which was far too long for my taste.

After scheduling an appointment with the oncologist and meeting him. He explained that chemo wasn't the way to go for this type of cancer and that my grandfather was to weak to handle it. This was after they had to put a G tube in his stomach. So he gave him pain medicine and sent us to make an appointment with the radiologist. Also telling us that he would be just fine and would pull through.

After speaking with her, she referred us to the surgeon. She gave us the same answer that he would be fine and pull through. Mind you these appointments were a week or so apart. So off to the big city we went all the while the fear was eating me alive. Knowing that this could be it. Meeting the surgeon, he didn't sugar anything he told us the cold hard truth.

He told us if he did surgery with my grandfather in his current state he would die on the operating table. He said to go back to the radiologist and start it to shrink it some then he might be able to do the operation. Over the course of this my grandfather had been going back and forth to the local hospital because of his G tube coming out.

During all of this at home I was taking care of him. Giving him his medicine through the tube, cleaning and dressing area his G tube, and making sure his feed bag was changed and replaced constantly on top of taking care of my two young daughters and keeping an eye on my grandmother. Once we got the appointment dates set for his radiation treatments I would go every time, just for moral support for my grandmother and him. Then the news came that it had metastasized and was now everywhere.

Still we continued with the treatment hoping that the radiation would or slow it down, but we were wrong. The only appointment I didn't go with them was the one that sent him to the hospital. I made me think if I was there would it have been different? It was my biggest regret, but at the same time my daughters needed me.

He was admitted with an unknown infection. The doctors worked their hardest to stop it, but between the radiation and lack of real food his immune system was too weak to fight it off. He spent three weeks in the hospital with us coming up as much as we could.

His final day we got called to come sign a partial DNR for him just in case something happened. Eleven o'clock that night the hospital called again. Telling us we should come quickly because he doesn't have long. A neighbor drove us to the hospital because grandma and I were beside ourselves. Entering the room seeing him just lying there not moving killed me inside.

I told myself I couldn't cry that I had to be strong for grandma. I held his hand and talked to him trying anything to get some sort of response from him. I just wanted/needed to hear his voice one last time. They had us sign a full DNR because he wasn't going to make it out of it this time.

He fought for three to stay alive for us. I know he did. Finally I walked up to his hospital bed took his hand brought to my forehead and told him it was okay. It was okay to let go and go home that he didn't need to suffer anymore. Five minutes later after I had stepped away he flat lined. My heart shattered that night and it will never be repaired. I lost someone precious to me, that I fought tirelessly to keep alive.

I did my best to stay strong during the funeral, but I couldn't do it. I was fine up until I had to say my final goodbye. I kissed his forehead like he used to do me when I was a child and the dam broke. Even now 4 years later I grieve over the lose. It didn't help that I had lost my father two months before him. That time I forced myself to stay strong for everyone.

The damage these two deaths have done will never heal. They say time heals all wounds I don't think its possible for me to follow that... I lost two precious people in one year. I pray for those with this terrible disease and I pray for their loved ones. It destroys so much and takes away so many. So please tell your loved ones that you love them. They may not be here tomorrow.