About 4 weeks or so ago, dad collapsed one morning at 6:15 am. He was playing Solitaire on the computer, his usual way to pass any sleepless hours, but he doesn't even remember logging on the computer that morning. I'm glad he doesn't remember.
Dad collapsed with a thud and mom found him seconds later. He was unconscious until waking in the ambulance. My heart soared when I heard he woke up--when I knew that God was giving me another chance to see him and to tell him how much I love him, how much his influence has meant to me.
What we thought was a stroke turned into a cancer diagnosis within days. He now has cancer in his lungs, his brain, his ribs, his spine, and one of his hips. Remarkably, he is free from pain. He has now completed 15 treatments or radiation, and he will start chemo on Monday. An MRI this Thursday will determine how effect the radiation has been in treating his brain cancer. Then we will find out when he will have laser brain surgery. The days are filled with doctors, and the steroids have made him quite weak.
It is difficult for him to get in and out of the car, and his muscles show signs of weakning from the steroids. Mercifully, he will be done taking the steroid pills tomorrow.
His hair (what he had of it) is halfway gone, and his stomach is sometimes upset from his medication. But his spirit is strong and resilient. Last night he told me he is going to live the rest of his life with intentionality. He's always been a gentle person, but he is more bold about his faith. He talks openly about preparing things for mom and us after he's gone.
Someone told me recently that experiences like this make you very weak and very strong. I know exactly what they mean now. I have passed the point of tears, but there is a knowledge that has settled in. Dad may not be there for so many moments in the future where I would like him to be...but he is here now.
We are all dying, all of us...but we are all also living. Dad is living well, and I want to do whatever I can to encourage him to continue on this way. Literally, thousands of people are praying for my dear dad and our family, and I feel this huge support, almost as if I am being held up, as if people are accompanying me on this journey. I know I am not alone.
Thank you, too, for your prayers and support. Each e-mail brings a boost to my spirit, each card or visit or walk helps me stay buoyant. I am doing well, and my heavenly Father is faithful to meet my needs and to meet dad's needs.
I will post often, so feel free to check back anytime. Blessings to you.