Update on my warrior

First of all, let me apologize for not updating everyone until now. Life has been a whirlwind. Let me try to catch you up. I’ll try to make it brief (Yeah, right. You know me better than that).

My parents came to visit in April. About a week afterwards, Dad started having problems walking. He went from using a cane to a walker to a wheelchair. We attributed this to the cancer that is in his bones; primarily his right hip.

On June 1, Dad started chemo again. But this time, he only got halfway through and his legs buckled under him. He was rushed to the ER, transferred to Fairfax Hospital Neurology and diagnosed with a subdural hematoma on his left frontal lobe. Almost instantly after surgery, he got the strength and movement back in his legs. By the grace of God, my dad was saved yet again… by the same man who saved my mom from an intracerebral brain hemorrhage years prior.  Moral of the story – Dr. Vyas – best neurosurgeon ever. Period.

Dad would have five more chemo treatments with the last one being September 14.  The end of September, Dad’s right foot/ankle swelled up an extreme amount. Diagnosis: DVT of the entire right leg – from hip to ankle. An IVC filter was put in place to stop the blood clot from moving to his heart and lungs which would have inevitably killed him.  Again, by the grace of God, my father’s life was spared.  However, he would continue to have problems with this leg because the DVT is still there and it cannot be treated with blood thinners because of a potential small brain bleed.

At this point, I was determined that he needed a break from chemo. On top of everything else, he was getting weaker, completely fatigued, his red blood cell count was out of whack and all of this was because chemo was wreaking havoc on his body. His body needed a break. So we decided to skip the chemo treatment scheduled for October 5. We would take things as they come and see if we wanted to continue on October 26. Personally, I had no intention of him ever taking chemo again and made my thoughts very clear.  However, it would be his ultimate decision.

The first week in October, his labs came back and his PSA had risen to 90.  Not only was chemo destroying his body but it had also stopped doing its job now. It appeared that chemo was no longer working. By this time, Dad’s pain had also started to resurface – in his right hip – where it always does when the PSA rises and, inevitably, the current treatment stops working. I have been fighting this battle with my dad for 21 years and know the signs. He also had a huge lump on this left frontal lobe of his head and recurring headaches and major swelling.

Fast forward to the October 25 (the day before chemo was supposed to restart) oncologist appointment. (When I lived in VA, I went to every appointment. Since moving to NC, I am on the phone during every appointment.) Dad was of the thinking that chemo would stop his pain because it had in the past and he wanted to restart. I was of the opinion that chemo has almost destroyed my father, it isn’t working anymore and I’ll put up a good fight to NOT start chemo again. Dad had been seeing a pain management doctor for a month or so and he had helped with this neuropathy when no other drugs had, so I was determined we would ask him what our options were instead of pumping more poison into his veins.

We didn’t have to fight over chemo because the oncologist referred us to a radiation oncologist (who we saw many years ago) to see if she could possibly radiate the skull and help with the pain. Meanwhile, Dad’s pain got worse and oxycodone every 3 hours wasn’t helping. The pain doctor prescribed him 12-hour long lasting morphine instead. Dad still had to take oxy at the same time. After a week, we increased the morphine and now he is sleeping through the night but also sleeping the majority of his waking hours also.  We’re caught between a rock and a hard place now – does he sleep all the time and not have pain or is he awake and alert and in horrible pain? Yeah, you guess which one we chose. Unfortunately, what comes along with that is confusion and hallucinating behavior.  He’s barely eating and drinking and he’s using a walker to get around. It takes everything out of him to basically breathe at this point. In 21 years of fighting this bitch of a disease, I have never seen or heard my dad complain until the past two years. From day one, his fear was that he’d have to go on chemo. My fear was that the cancer would spread to the bone. Both of our fears came true.

Today, my dad starts radiation on his hip and on his skull. This is purely for pain management. We don’t know if it will work. It may cause additional pain. It will definitely cause weakness. But it is the only shot we have left of reducing his pain without increasing his mind altering, quality-of-life -depriving pain meds. The cancer is continuing to grow and there are no options left to stop it. We knew two years ago that when the cancer metastasized to the bone that chemo was the only option left, it would eventually stop working and then it would be about pain management. We’re now at that point.

So, we are doing the best we can at relieving his pain. If radiation doesn’t help or makes him feel worse, then we will stop. If he can tolerate radiation, then we will keep going as long as he can tolerate it up to the 10^th day of treatment on November 29.  I pray radiation helps ease his pain so that we can reduce the morphine and my mom and I can get “my dad” back even if just for a little while. Radiation will not work for ever. The cancer will continue to grow. We just have to take one day at a time, keep praying and love him the best way we know how.

My father has fought prostate cancer like a warrior. Each time it returned, he attacked it with a vengeance and he beat it down. After 21 years, his body is feeling the effects of that battle and it is obviously wearing down. But I know, even if only glimpses of my dad show up right now, that the heart and spirit of that warrior is still there and still fighting.


He never gave up and I will never give up on him.
It is MY turn to fight now and I will never stop.
It’s not over til GOD says it’s over!

 

"I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't...
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow, I know the hurt
Would all go away if You'd just say the word
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone."
-Mercy Me