My Dad has Stage 4 Cancer. He was diagnosed the first week of December, 2009, after living two years with pain. His local doctor couldn't figure out what the problem was; what was causing the pain. My Dad went to a clinic in California for a "soup to nuts" check up. That is when he found out he had cancer. Before he went to the oncologist, my Dad had a CT-scan and they discovered a node on his lung, as well. A needle biopsy was done to determine if it was a second primary site or if it was part of the original cancer (metastisized). Unfortunately, it was the latter. That put him into the Stage 4 catagory.
When Mom called to give me the results of his check up, I was stunned. I remember sitting in my car in the garage and crying my eyes out. I was so angry at God and I was so scared for my Dad. And for my Mom. I remember yelling at God, "WHY?!?" in one breath and then begging "PLEASE, don't take my Daddy!" in the next. For most of the month of December, I went back and forth. One moment being really angry at God; the next begging for his life. God had never felt so far away or remote to me in all my life.
The day after Christmas, I was sitting in our worship service at church. Chelle Reed played the violin as a prelude to the service. Such beautiful music. Very calming; very uplifting. I don't really remember word for word what the serman was, but I remember the point of it: Let go and let God. The message really struck a chord deep inside me. I stopped wrestling with God over my Dad. I put him in the hands of the One that loves my Dad beyond all reason.
Dad started his chemo in January of 2010. He did pretty good on it for the first couple of weeks, but pretty soon the toxins began to build up in his system and he got sicker. It was difficult watching him go through that. My Dad has always been so healthy. Before the cancer, I could count on one hand the number of times that my Dad has been sick and have fingers left over. Seeing him that way was hard. Watching my Mom deal with it was hard, too. Mom and Dad just celebrated 55 years of marriage earlier this month.
There is a particularly poignant picture in my mind from during that time. My brother and his family came just about every other weekend during Dad's treatments. One such weekend, I was sitting at the dining room table with my Mom, Sister, Sister-in-Love, and my niece and nephew. I looked into the living room and I will never forget what I saw. It was such a bittersweet and heartwrenching moment. My Dad was asleep in his recliner with a blanket pulled up to his chin; my brother was sitting on the couch just looking at Dad. Looking as if to memorize every line, every freckle, every detail of Dad's face. It broke my heart it was so beautiful.
Dad had surgery twice and came out both times like a champ. The lump in his lung remained fairly consistant, not growing very much at all over the next couple of years. A few months ago, he began a natural chemo for the lump in his lung; again doing pretty good and then getting weak and sick from the toxic build-up. And then, he developed a headache last week end that wouldn't go away. It was bad enough that it knocked him off his feet and he spent the weekend in bed.
Thursday, my Mom took him to the ER per his doctor's orders. He was admitted after they did a CT-scan showing a lesion on his brain, on the back, right side. This morning they did an MRI to determine whether it was benign or not. The results were not good. It is a further metastization of the cancer or as the doctor put it a progression of the disease. In a few hours time, we will be back at the hospital with a second oncologist to figure out what course of action is best. Well, Dad will decide.
And here is the truly amazing thing: My Dad, who wouldn't say crap if he had a mouthful, wants to use whatever time he has left to be a mentor to others that are going through what he has been through. He wants to help them not be so afraid; to know that they are not alone; to know that they will get through it no matter what.
I've cried many times over the last few days. Even now the tears threaten. I know it's ok for me to cry. It's ok for me to just lay my head on my Father's chest and weep. Because I love a God that can take whatever this world dishes out; I serve a God that holds me up. He will see my Dad and my family through this and we will be stronger, no matter what the outcome.
There is a song by Kathy Troccoli called "My Life Is In Your Hands". The chorus goes like this:
My life is in Your hands/My heart is in Your keeping/I'm never without hope/not when my future is with You/My life is in Your hands/And though I may not see clearly/I will lift my voice and sing/'Cause Your love does amazing things/Lord I know, my life is in Your hands.
So I will keep singing. I will sing through the pain; through the tears. I will sing to honor my earthly Daddy and my Heavenly Daddy.
No comments:
Post a Comment