The end is coming
I see that you’re ready
It’s as if you’ve been given permission
It’s time to go—God is waiting for you
All my life
My Father, My Hero
I didn’t know all you were
Til I was older
I am so thankful for your great love
You have given me what I needed
I am so thankful to God,
For how He weaves the story
We all became His children
That’s a miracle in itself
Thank You, God, for giving me my Father
All my life
My Father, My Hero
I didn’t know all you were
Til I was older
I am so thankful for your great love
You have given me what I needed
God redeems, that’s just what He does
When we recognize it’s Him
What a blessing we receive
Thank You, God, for caring for me
For giving me a loving Father
-----------
I wrote this on September 27 2019 the day after Poppa got the news from his oncologist that he likely only had 4-6 months.
On August 1st 2019 he was terribly jaundiced and had been ill with gastro issues for weeks. He had been away on a fishing trip in July but got so weak that he had to pack up his camp and take the ferry back home. He woke up so ill on August 1st, they called my brother at 7am to take him into emergency. My family and I were on our way down to Portland for our only big family trip of the summer. I was getting text messages all morning and was trying to decide if we needed to return or could continue on with our plans. Finally, hours later, they got the scan results back that he did have a tumor that appeared to be putting pressure on his bile duct, blocking it and causing the jaundice. The were quite certain the tumor was located on his pancreas, and mentioned 99% sure it was cancer, but said confirmation would come at a later date. Poppa took the news as cancer. He texted me the results and said "Soooo thankful I am saved, Praise You Jesus!"
We did continue on with our weekend plans in Portland and I would check in on him every day, morning or evening. On Saturday, the day of my tournament, everything went late, I was outside of cell range, when I finally went into cell range, my phone went off with a flurry of notifications. I was so scared as I pulled over to check my messages. There were messages from my family about my Dad but more shockingly, was from my step sister who suddenly had lost her own Mother in law. She was getting a planned surgery, things went well. After a short time she had some complications and had further surgery which had such disappointing results and an incredibly sad conclusion to what was a day filled with hope. We took some time to contact my step sister and husband, two dear people and grieve together. Such an unexpected and awful shock to us all.
My Dad, in terrible pain, waited through the weekend for news of his next steps. He got the stent surgery on his 73rd birthday the next week, on August 7th. We were able to have a good visit and prayer time with myself and my children the day before. He was worried to go into surgery, especially after what happened to sweet Barb. He heading into surgery with the calm assurance of his faith in Jesus. The stent surgery went very well and they were able to scrape the tumor to get a sample for testing. Very quickly we got the results that it was indeed pancreatic cancer. We then waited for over a week for a call for his surgery date to get whipple surgery. When the week came and went, we finally got the name of a surgeon sorted out (there was a real problem with keeping all the doctors sorted). Upon contacting the surgeon, we were informed that there was no intention of a surgery date, first there would be a meeting to discuss options--so that meeting got scheduled. Every day felt critical at this point. When we finally got to see the surgeon, I recorded the meeting and asked the questions that the family had discussed for me to ask. We had brought him into the meeting in a wheelchair because he had been very tired and we wanted to preserve his energy. Apparently that was a mistake because the surgeon was disappointed to see he was feeling weak. We found out that day that he needed to get stronger and come back when he was walking more than sitting around in any given day. They said if he could gain a bit of weight and be walking around like normal, they could proceed with surgery. The surgeon said he had been relatively healthy a short time ago (maybe about 5 weeks before) and was hopeful that he could get back to that level. This was August 26.
On August 1st 2019 he was terribly jaundiced and had been ill with gastro issues for weeks. He had been away on a fishing trip in July but got so weak that he had to pack up his camp and take the ferry back home. He woke up so ill on August 1st, they called my brother at 7am to take him into emergency. My family and I were on our way down to Portland for our only big family trip of the summer. I was getting text messages all morning and was trying to decide if we needed to return or could continue on with our plans. Finally, hours later, they got the scan results back that he did have a tumor that appeared to be putting pressure on his bile duct, blocking it and causing the jaundice. The were quite certain the tumor was located on his pancreas, and mentioned 99% sure it was cancer, but said confirmation would come at a later date. Poppa took the news as cancer. He texted me the results and said "Soooo thankful I am saved, Praise You Jesus!"
We did continue on with our weekend plans in Portland and I would check in on him every day, morning or evening. On Saturday, the day of my tournament, everything went late, I was outside of cell range, when I finally went into cell range, my phone went off with a flurry of notifications. I was so scared as I pulled over to check my messages. There were messages from my family about my Dad but more shockingly, was from my step sister who suddenly had lost her own Mother in law. She was getting a planned surgery, things went well. After a short time she had some complications and had further surgery which had such disappointing results and an incredibly sad conclusion to what was a day filled with hope. We took some time to contact my step sister and husband, two dear people and grieve together. Such an unexpected and awful shock to us all.
My Dad, in terrible pain, waited through the weekend for news of his next steps. He got the stent surgery on his 73rd birthday the next week, on August 7th. We were able to have a good visit and prayer time with myself and my children the day before. He was worried to go into surgery, especially after what happened to sweet Barb. He heading into surgery with the calm assurance of his faith in Jesus. The stent surgery went very well and they were able to scrape the tumor to get a sample for testing. Very quickly we got the results that it was indeed pancreatic cancer. We then waited for over a week for a call for his surgery date to get whipple surgery. When the week came and went, we finally got the name of a surgeon sorted out (there was a real problem with keeping all the doctors sorted). Upon contacting the surgeon, we were informed that there was no intention of a surgery date, first there would be a meeting to discuss options--so that meeting got scheduled. Every day felt critical at this point. When we finally got to see the surgeon, I recorded the meeting and asked the questions that the family had discussed for me to ask. We had brought him into the meeting in a wheelchair because he had been very tired and we wanted to preserve his energy. Apparently that was a mistake because the surgeon was disappointed to see he was feeling weak. We found out that day that he needed to get stronger and come back when he was walking more than sitting around in any given day. They said if he could gain a bit of weight and be walking around like normal, they could proceed with surgery. The surgeon said he had been relatively healthy a short time ago (maybe about 5 weeks before) and was hopeful that he could get back to that level. This was August 26.
Next we got to go to see an oncologist. My brother took him to that appointment on September 11. I wanted to go so badly but Poppa did not want too many people at the meeting and was adamant that he only wanted Andrew to take him. I could tell how much he appreciated the time and attention with Andrew. I had to work anyway, so I worked, distracted, because I wanted to be with my Dad. Anyway, the appointment was recorded, and they got good news that at this point, the goal was to get Poppa eating and getting stronger--diabetic diet was no longer necessary and he could just enjoy what he wanted to eat and gain some weight.The bad news, which Poppa had been suspicious of, was that if he was too weak for surgery, he would be too weak for chemo as well. He also seemed to be one step ahead of the bad news. Anyway, he was focused on the good news for now and went forward with every intention of getting stronger and ready to put in a good effort.
I, of course, was so distracted the next day by the news that I locked my keys in my truck while at Starbucks before work, with all my work stuff and proper shoes in there, and had a heck of a morning and was late to work by 40 minutes while I dealt with BCAA. The cafe is literally 2 minutes from my work so I just felt like an idiot.
Poppa ate delicious, rich foods for a few days and then got crippling pain in both feet and ankles which he thought was gout. He could barely walk. So the plan to go for a decent walk every day got put on hold, his jaundiced was cleared but he had ongoing bouts or harassing levels of nausea. Andrew worked so hard to find him foods that would calm his tummy troubles and help him gain weight. He was working off information that I couldn't verify online, that red meat or pork caused jaundice so even though he did not want to eat chicken, he felt he had to over what he really wanted to eat. Food became such a focus for us trying to support him. He went to see his family doctor about the gout and she recommended he go back on the diabetic diet. We were so frustrated since he was told to eat whatever tasted good to him--he was so disappointed to be put back on the diabetic diet. That didn't last too much longer.
He had a meeting with the oncologist again on September 26 so we got him back on the "eat anything" program. Unfortunately, by then, he had lost an additional 10 lbs since the last appointment, and the doc was concerned. I was at this appointment, with the job of asking some questions, and record. We asked about his nausea, wondering if it was caused by other medications he was taking, and was told, that the nausea was for sure caused by the cancer and where it was located. He also refused my request of doing another scan so we could know if it was growing because he kept saying "we know its growing" but i wanted to know, how do we know without seeing. He said it wouldn't help and we didn't need to know specifics because of the symptoms. I asked the hard questions of, where is this going, etc. The doc suggested 4-6 months. Poppa felt sure that he would not make it til Christmas. He revealed that he had been in pain (where previously, he had pretty low pain). They worked on a plan for comfort measures and prescribed a steroid to take daily to help perk him up so he could get walking and enjoy some outings. The steroid is intended for use for 3 months and then it has some pretty awful side effects, so this made me suspicious that the doc didn't actually think he would survive beyond 3 months. Poppa had lost 60 lbs since July at this point. Things were getting pretty real.
Sometime, during those weeks, I was asked to discuss end of life plans with him, and it was super awkward but he made it funny and introduced me to the song that came to mind for him, called Don't Bury Me, by John Prine. He looked it up on his iphone and we listened together to this very silly song that was "so him".
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