Another Life Lesson?

 

This blog is bouncing back and forth in history, and I feel like I am in Mr. Peabody’s Wayback Machine.

We land in 1993. I am working at Aurelio’s Pizza. Things are not so bad yet with my drinking, but in a few short years it will be the Nightmare. I was totally dedicated to this job and if I had to, I would work seven days a week. That did not happen very often.

So, one day, in the Spring of 1993, my Step-Mom – who I considered as a Mom – called me up out of the blue and was chatting, but I could feel there was something else behind this and it wouldn’t be good. She said, “Your father has cancer.” Big silence. What she had said was taking quite a minute for me to process. She began to explain to me the game plan laid out for my Dad’s treatment. As I said, I was having a hard time processing this and a lot of it went by me as I did not understand much about cancer treatment.

I called my Dad and talked with him for a while. He explained to me about the chemotherapy and radiation. My Dad and Step-Mom had the positive mind set and painted the picture as “everything is going to be OK” and I took on that mind set, too. My Sister is 14 years old. I cannot imagine what is going on in her mind.

I continue as if everything is normal and worked and hung out and had drinks as usual. I took my Dad up to Rush hospital a few times for radiation treatments. We had some conversations on those drives that shed some light about some things I did not know about from his life. I think this made me feel closer to him than I had since I was a kid. I would go visit him at home and he was usually laying on the couch hanging out. My Step-Mom was usually brewing him some hot mint tea to soothe his throat.

At some point, my Step-Mom told me that when they were first talking with the oncologist, they were asked if there was any cancer in my Dad’s side of the family. My Dad replied yes that his father had passed away from cancer. Shock. My Step-Mom never knew that and I certainly never knew that.

A few months in, I went to visit my father in the hospital. I’m not sure why they were keeping him there. During that time, he discovered that his hair had begun to fall out from the chemo.

I am not trying to give the impression that I was a good son. I was a horrible son during that time. Work and alcohol took precedence over everything. I was not there as much as I should have been for my Dad. I was not as supportive of my Step-Mother and my Sister as I should have been. I have kicked myself in the ass so many times about what an ass I really was, and I still do sometimes to this day. Sometimes I find it so hard to keep the forgiveness I gave to myself. This is so hard to write, I mean really, really hard.

All of this took place within a matter of 3-4 months. Such a short period of time.

Well, my 31^st birthday came around at the end of August and Dale and I went to Chicago to celebrate. We were totally trashed. I went to bed very late (or very early if you go by the sun coming up) and was woken up by a phone call three hours later. My Step-Mom said my Dad was asking for my Sister and me to come up to the hospital. I was still half drunk and there was no way I felt safe going to pick up my sister and drive all the way to Chicago, so we got an Aunt to drive us up there.

My Dad was totally in another world on morphine because he had been in a lot of pain. That was the strangest experience all in itself. He was talking to none of us, but sharing who he was seeing. He was seeing relatives that had already passed away. After what seemed like a few hours, we went to the cafeteria and got something to eat, which I desperately needed. We really were not gone very long and when we got back, he had passed away.

Lots of crying. Lots of phone calls. Everything going in that fast forward motion with way too much happening all at once. When we got back home, there where relatives and friends arriving with food and condolences. I was crying on the front porch and my Uncle was there. I asked why my Dad never said anything about cancer in the family. My Uncle replied, “Big family secret. That is why I go get a lung screening every year.”

Now, my family and friends are all good looking, entertaining, and very smart. With that said, I suppose you can guess where this is going. So, I will bring up that word again, Heredity. The apple still rolling around by the family tree, but not too far away from it.

I began getting lung screenings after I sobered up and got a job that had health insurance. I have been in the addictions field for almost 20 years now and continued to get screened. At some point years ago, they found a few nodules, but over the years there was not any indication of further growth.

Last year I got a new job and was able to go back to my doctor that I used to see way in the past. He is great and I am so glad to be under his care. It was around July 2022, and I asked for a yearly lung screening. No big deal, just a normal routine.

The results came back with some “worrisome results” – as my doctor put it. There seemed to be a new growth that had appeared within the past year. My doctor recommended an oncologist. I went in for a PET scan. The oncologist said that the pet scan indicated cancer in my right lung and a lymph node right around the lung area. But there was something odd. My adrenal gland was showing indications of cancer, but they cannot figure out why. There was no tumor or any indication that it should be there.

The oncologist suggested chemo and radiation with no surgery. My Mom and I wanted a second opinion, and we went to Rush Hospital. They suggested Chemo and surgery with no radiation. I just did not feel like I could go through another surgery, having gone through two pancreas surgeries in the past. The oncologist said that either way I go, the results are the same. The treatment gets it or it gets it and somewhere down the road it could reappear. I decided to go with the first suggestion.

It took a while to get everything set up and I started Chemo and radiation at the beginning of November. This is the end of Week Four and I seem to be tolerating treatment pretty well, although my hair is starting to fall out a little more than usual. Another dear to my heart “Bestie” told me I am right on schedule. So, I will start my second round of Chemo the week after Thanksgiving, and I hope I continue to tolerate it in a positive way. No guarantees though. I have a great support system in Family and Friends and I want to thank you for that.

I will be back with another blog to keep you updated, hopefully not as long as this one. I hope I might be able to give you a few things to think about and a few things to laugh about. But mostly about enjoying life.