Susan L.

About Susan L.

First, let me start by saying how much I appreciate having the opportunity to share my story. The past several years have been so hard and having a place to express my thoughts on these difficult times is therapeutic and much needed. My dad was first diagnosed about 12 years ago. It was found very early and he went through a lot of treatments (including radiation) to stop the cancer from spreading. The treatments were successful, he went into remission. It was easy to find comfort in the work we put into his care because we were looking back on it from a happier place. He was cured and we felt grateful. Life went on as usual for several years and then the Dr noticed signs that the cancer was trying to come back. It was heart breaking and scary but his doctors assured us that what was happening to him could be controlled for a long time by medication. And good news! The medication was successful at first! His levels looked good and we found peace within the new normal that we had made. Fast forward a few years- Medicine wasn’t touching dad\’s levels anymore and his urologist turned him over to the care of an oncologist. We were frustrated. Those medicines were supposed to work for a long time! What was going on! After a few more medicines and no improvement, we went as a family to the oncologist, my parents and I, and asked what the next step would be. Dad was starting to get weak, he could do less and less for himself. The cancer had metastasized to his lymphs and bones. The stakes just kept getting higher and higher. We needed some hope. The Dr said it was time for chemo which was a terrifying word to hear but at the same time I felt a sense of relief because maybe now we could finally get a heavy hitting treatment that would really help his condition. We felt hopeful. 2 weeks before dad’s first chemo, completely unexpectedly, my mother died and her loss was earth shattering. The weight of our situation was made ten million times worse by the trauma and unspeakable grief of losing her. I had always been there through all the phases of dad’s treatments but I always had my mother, my rock and strength to help me work through my feelings, guide me, reassure me and step in when necessary to help me. She was taken from us in the middle of the night and in a moment our beacon was gone forever…but it was a critical time for my dad. I had to keep myself together for his sake. The responsibility of his care fell to me and I had to start making decisions and taking actions all the time watching him grow weaker and feeling more and more helpless. Just when we would get ourselves into a groove, something would upset it and we would have to figure out new challenges and work around new obstacles. Finally we got to a point where his day to day care was more than I could manage. Hospice got involved but even with their help Dad’s condition just kept getting worse and worse and finally we found a lovely full time care facility that took him with open arms and which is where he resides today. I visit him every day and still bug him to eat more, ask him if he’s warm enough and provide him with fuzzy blankets, visits from the cats and whatever comforts I can. Being a caregiver has given me a crash course in finding my inner strength. Being a caregiver means thinking about another person’s needs before your own. It means quick thinking, problem solving, anticipating and preventing issues, finding time for yourself so you don’t go crazy. It means facing things that you don’t feel ready for and tackling them head on, maintaining a positive attitude so your loved one can find their strength too. Finding gratitude and hope above the odds, even when everything looks bleak. It’s exhausting work and I tip my hat to anyone going through it. Hold on to that hope and stand strong, I’m proud of you, you’re doing a great job.

Share on: Facebook | Twitter
Read More | Submit your Story