Dan (Dad)

About Dan (Dad)

My father was diagnosed with prostrate cancer back in May of 2014. Not only prostate cancer, but the worst and most aggressive form of it. It was a complete and utter wake up call and all I could do was embrace my dad and cry. After the initial shock he and my mother told me and my brother that they weren’t going to let this diagnosis run their lives. It was just going to be something that was a part of their lives. After all he had just retired from his job of 35 years a month before he was diagnosed. We remained strong for my dad, and for our family. The weeks and months went by as I watched my dad jump from treatment to treatment. One medication would work and then stop. The year after he was was diagnosed he started chemo, which was intense and incredible difficult to watch him go through. That’s when the care-taking really began. We would go to the beach or to the park as much as we could. I started anxiously taking as many videos and photos of my father and my son together playing or painting together. We were in the unknown…how long was this going to go on? Is he going to get better and be able to enjoy a normal life? A normal retirement? Or was he going to die from this horrible disease? So many questions during this time. As much as I felt frustrated, sad and angry that I couldn’t do anything for him, I had to remind myself of how much worse it was for him. That he was the one suffering, not me. I watched my father deteriorate over the next several months after that. The only thing that would bring him any kind of joy was my son who was three years old at the time. I could tell he was in pain, but bring a grandfather was everything to him. When my son was born I asked him “so, how does it feel to be a grandpa?” to which he replied with a twinkle in his eye “it’s kind of like becoming a parent again.” I am so thankful and grateful I could give him that. A year and half after the diagnosis he was basically in bed all the time. He was in so much pain. My husband, myself and son had been living with my parents to help care for my dad. If anything it was so comforting to know how our family takes care of one another when it truly counts. July 5th was his last morning at home before we rushed him to the ER. Soon after he ended up in rehab with the hopes of coming home soon. My mother and I started having to feed him. His nurses changing him. This is not a vision of my father I could even comprehend. He was unable to care for himself at all. If my mother wasn’t by his side, it was me making sure he was eating and doing his arm exercises. Having to watch the the nurses care for him and change him was shocking to me. I had never been in that position before, and I was scared. I was also trying to stay strong and maybe somewhat in denial. How could this be happening to my dad? He was the kindest most selfless and sincere person I’ve ever known. He didn’t deserve to be in this position. Several more weeks went by if this. It was exhausting, both emotionally and physically. Helping my dad, but also trying to be there to support my mom. It was the most trying time for me, but again I constantly reminded myself of what my dad was going through, and that it wasn’t about me. He ultimately ended up in the hospital due to kidney failure. His tumor had grown so large it was obstructing his kidneys. He rapidly started to deteriorate to the point he couldn’t talk. I was wetting his tongue every few minutes, massaging his massively swollen legs and feet to try and at least ease some pain. It was too easy to remember that there was still a human living in his body. I struggled to ensure he was as comfortable as possible, but it seemed useless. My mother and I held his hands for the next several days and never left his bedside. My dad died at the age of 65 on July 29th 2017 from prostate cancer. It has been a roller coaster of emotions, to the extreme. But I have come to a place where I am thankful and grateful to have been able to call him my dad, and that I could care for him to the fullest of my ability when he needed me the most. He was a unique person who taught me what it means to be thoughtful, and what sacrifice truly means. Even though going through that time was more horrible than anything I could ever imagine, I know my dad would have been so proud of how we all came together and stayed strong for him. I’m proud of all of us, too.

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