As you may have been able to tell, Sheri and I have run out of memories to talk about throughout our relationship. Every few days we're on the phone with one another "We need to write!"
"Well....it's your turn."
"No, you need to write. I don't know what to write about."
"Ok, I'll think of something."
And then it sits for days. Sometimes I'll come here to see if anyone has commented and stare at the blinking cursor, my mind searching for words.
These days words are not of short supply, they're just words that we don't like uttering.
Cancer.
It's a disasterous word. It brings nothing but heartache and tears and anger...and denial.
Both Sheri's and my worlds have begun to crack and crumble, again.
I'm not here to talk about Sheri's life, if she chooses to do so she can let you know.
I however need to write, I need to process. I can't bottle up emotions because they slowly eat away at my soul and leave me a big pile of heaping uselessness.
About 8 or 9 years ago my father was diagnosed with Stage I prostate cancer. Stage I is supposed to be a blessing-caught early and highly cureable. Some doctors would look at his case and say "Hey, he's lived 9 years, that's great!"
Tell that to his family. I want my father for another 20-30 years. Why can't he live to be 90? I work in the industry where I deal with men and women in their late 90's every day.
I also deal with the other side of the spectrum where there are terminally ill men and women passing away in their 30's, 40's, an 50's. Too young, FAR too young.
My father's PSA level is rising. It's at 1.7 now and just a month or so ago it was at 0.6. He is no longer responding to hormone therapy and so he's running out of options.They are tripling the hormone doses he's on to hope that it stops the growth while they shop for other options. He's looking for other oncologist opinions, his doctor suggested he start using this new treatment called Provenge which is the extraction of his own cells, mixing them with proteins linked to the prostate cancer and then infusing him with that to attack the tumor. It greatly increases his chance of survival past the 2-year median that chemo provides...and most importantly is a cure rather than just a treatment. That's also $100K and may not be covered by insurance.
Next and last resort option is chemo which isn't very effective against prostate cancer.
I was a wreck yesterday all throughout work. We are swamped right now and on a timeline and our manager is breathing down our neck. That wouldn't be an issue if it didn't come at the same time of knowing that my father's cancer is becoming hormone resistent which actually isn't that uncommon. We were warned this would happen, but we didn't expect it quite so soon.
He's in good spirits, naturally. I think he has "Head-in-Sand" syndrome. His oncologist told him under no circumstance no.more.drinking. I don't know how long that will last because my father enjoys the sauce. I've been telling him for years he drinks far too much and I've gone as far as labeling him an alcoholic. I don't know if he'll stop drinking. I pray for his, and our, sake that he does.
We often joke that a glass of wine a day is healthy. Not bottles of wine.
I don't even want to begin to think of what this will do to my mother. They just did the entire inside of the house and had planned on staying here a few more years to enjoy it. I don't even know if he'll be around in a few more years. His cancer is extremely aggressive and if no treatments work it won't take long.
The only thing I can pray for is that it's quick.
I'm putting the cart before the horse. Let's see how he responds to an increase in hormones. He may grow boobs but at least he'll be alive.
I do feel for Sheri because she's the one left picking up the pieces of me but she's going through her own mess right now. I can't lean on her as much as I want to because I don't want to add my stress on to her. When she texted me on Monday night what was going on I wanted to drop everything and run to her and hold her in my arms and make her pain go away. No matter how frustrated or angry I can be with her I never want to see her hurt. It absolutely breaks my heart so see this woman who puts on the facade of being so strong and independent start to shut down.
It's one thing for me to cry. I cry all the damn time! It's another for Sheri to. And it renders me useless because I don't know how to handle it. After years of dealing with cancer between my father and sister you'd think I'd have some knowledge how to respond properly but I don't. I normally clam up and stammer and think Ok Jen...what can you say that would be so profound that it would make this all better?
And I got nuthin. I want to say It'll be alright but I don't know if it will be or not. I'm sure she wants to tell me my father will beat this like he has been for just about 10 years but...she's not a fortune teller, she doesn't know. And when we receive news that is so bleak...do you really want to be that person to say "It'll be alright" and then it's not??
Part of me is in denial. Part of me thinks that God and our family that has gone before wouldn't take my father, who is such a kind and gentle man, away from us. Why can't the rapists and murderers sitting in jail for 30, 40, 50 years get cancer and die and leave the good people here to be loved?
And part of me thinks that my father and my sister have beat the odds SO many times that this will be just like that. I've been saying for years though...eventually the time will come where we run out of miracles. I feel like now that I've said it enough I've jinxed us.
Sorry to be Debbie Downer. I'll leave it up to Sheri to post the next up beat entry.
On a completely different and brighter note I'm having a housewarming party tomorrow! I need to be surrounded by my friends-they are my rocks and a fun distraction.
"Well....it's your turn."
"No, you need to write. I don't know what to write about."
"Ok, I'll think of something."
And then it sits for days. Sometimes I'll come here to see if anyone has commented and stare at the blinking cursor, my mind searching for words.
These days words are not of short supply, they're just words that we don't like uttering.
Cancer.
It's a disasterous word. It brings nothing but heartache and tears and anger...and denial.
Both Sheri's and my worlds have begun to crack and crumble, again.
I'm not here to talk about Sheri's life, if she chooses to do so she can let you know.
I however need to write, I need to process. I can't bottle up emotions because they slowly eat away at my soul and leave me a big pile of heaping uselessness.
About 8 or 9 years ago my father was diagnosed with Stage I prostate cancer. Stage I is supposed to be a blessing-caught early and highly cureable. Some doctors would look at his case and say "Hey, he's lived 9 years, that's great!"
Tell that to his family. I want my father for another 20-30 years. Why can't he live to be 90? I work in the industry where I deal with men and women in their late 90's every day.
I also deal with the other side of the spectrum where there are terminally ill men and women passing away in their 30's, 40's, an 50's. Too young, FAR too young.
My father's PSA level is rising. It's at 1.7 now and just a month or so ago it was at 0.6. He is no longer responding to hormone therapy and so he's running out of options.They are tripling the hormone doses he's on to hope that it stops the growth while they shop for other options. He's looking for other oncologist opinions, his doctor suggested he start using this new treatment called Provenge which is the extraction of his own cells, mixing them with proteins linked to the prostate cancer and then infusing him with that to attack the tumor. It greatly increases his chance of survival past the 2-year median that chemo provides...and most importantly is a cure rather than just a treatment. That's also $100K and may not be covered by insurance.
Next and last resort option is chemo which isn't very effective against prostate cancer.
I was a wreck yesterday all throughout work. We are swamped right now and on a timeline and our manager is breathing down our neck. That wouldn't be an issue if it didn't come at the same time of knowing that my father's cancer is becoming hormone resistent which actually isn't that uncommon. We were warned this would happen, but we didn't expect it quite so soon.
He's in good spirits, naturally. I think he has "Head-in-Sand" syndrome. His oncologist told him under no circumstance no.more.drinking. I don't know how long that will last because my father enjoys the sauce. I've been telling him for years he drinks far too much and I've gone as far as labeling him an alcoholic. I don't know if he'll stop drinking. I pray for his, and our, sake that he does.
We often joke that a glass of wine a day is healthy. Not bottles of wine.
I don't even want to begin to think of what this will do to my mother. They just did the entire inside of the house and had planned on staying here a few more years to enjoy it. I don't even know if he'll be around in a few more years. His cancer is extremely aggressive and if no treatments work it won't take long.
The only thing I can pray for is that it's quick.
I'm putting the cart before the horse. Let's see how he responds to an increase in hormones. He may grow boobs but at least he'll be alive.
I do feel for Sheri because she's the one left picking up the pieces of me but she's going through her own mess right now. I can't lean on her as much as I want to because I don't want to add my stress on to her. When she texted me on Monday night what was going on I wanted to drop everything and run to her and hold her in my arms and make her pain go away. No matter how frustrated or angry I can be with her I never want to see her hurt. It absolutely breaks my heart so see this woman who puts on the facade of being so strong and independent start to shut down.
It's one thing for me to cry. I cry all the damn time! It's another for Sheri to. And it renders me useless because I don't know how to handle it. After years of dealing with cancer between my father and sister you'd think I'd have some knowledge how to respond properly but I don't. I normally clam up and stammer and think Ok Jen...what can you say that would be so profound that it would make this all better?
And I got nuthin. I want to say It'll be alright but I don't know if it will be or not. I'm sure she wants to tell me my father will beat this like he has been for just about 10 years but...she's not a fortune teller, she doesn't know. And when we receive news that is so bleak...do you really want to be that person to say "It'll be alright" and then it's not??
Part of me is in denial. Part of me thinks that God and our family that has gone before wouldn't take my father, who is such a kind and gentle man, away from us. Why can't the rapists and murderers sitting in jail for 30, 40, 50 years get cancer and die and leave the good people here to be loved?
And part of me thinks that my father and my sister have beat the odds SO many times that this will be just like that. I've been saying for years though...eventually the time will come where we run out of miracles. I feel like now that I've said it enough I've jinxed us.
Sorry to be Debbie Downer. I'll leave it up to Sheri to post the next up beat entry.
On a completely different and brighter note I'm having a housewarming party tomorrow! I need to be surrounded by my friends-they are my rocks and a fun distraction.
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