Chapter 8~

My prayers to this point had been for my dad’s strength to fight this, from this point on my prayers turned to us as a family, to heal us from what we were about to go through. 

With so many good days, followed by bad days, positive test results, followed by negative test results, one doctors uplifting opinion, followed by another doctors realistic view on this issue, I was drained.  At the end of September we received possibly the most confusing news, after watching the deterioration of his spirit for weeks we were told by one of his London doctors that he sees an improvement and wanted to continue treatments.  Puzzling, I must say.  The utter confusion in this matter is hard to convey in words.  The puzzling look on my face after most of these appointments would have been a clearer vision. 

We would see days where he wanted to get up and walk, eating his meals (small amounts, but at least eating), this would be such an uplifting sight for me, after slightly losing hope, the pain of guilt for the thoughts I had been having were too much to bear.  How could I be giving up on him?  How could he show so much improvement only to follow that up with a fever and feeding tube the following day?  The human body is a strange object to wrap myself around.  I guess to be truthful it’s the disease that puzzles me more than anything.  It truly is a silent killer. 

Treatments resumed, days went on with this roller coaster of good days and bad, good news and bad.  He was frustrated by the lack of information he was receiving and confused by what exactly was happening to him.  It’s hard to say if he was being naïve or if he was just afraid to let down his walls and show us that he was scared. 

As the process went on nothing was more upsetting to me than seeing the look of fear, confusion, hope, let down, and pain in his eyes.  This is a man who was for my whole life dealt the blows like a champ.  Nothing ever seemed to faze him, or at least he never let us see it.  He took on more than he could handle at times, but could anyone see it, No.  He wasn’t built that way.  Something about a man, and not showing fear was taken to the next level with my dad. The day would come, sooner than later, when we would truly see just how much my dad feared this disease and what his outcome would be. 

On one evening visit to my dad, we went for a walk through the halls of the hospital; it was not like any walk we had ever taken.  It was not down our street with frequent stops at every house that someone was outside to visit, chat or have a cold one.  Albeit he was just as friendly in the hospital corridors as he was on Queen Street, saying hello and offering a smile to people he passed.  That night after our first walk, I figured I would get him settled into bed and watch TV, but much to my surprise he wanted to walk again.  One more time we made our way around the halls, I was bursting inside.  The amount of pride I had for him at that moment is monumental.  I know he was frail and tired, but he wanted to badly to show me just how much fight he had in himself.  That is just the man he was.  How could you not look up to that? 

The idea of him possibly being well enough to come home was tossed around, even though one of his London doctors was still concerned with the liver issues and was pushing for a scope to be done to see just what was happening. 

The beginning of October seemed to bring on a whole new set of mountains to climb.  On one side we were seeing such improvement with him, he was nearing the end of radiation, he was gaining weight, and he was allowed to come home for afternoon visits to the house... These were all such positive signs for us, and allowed us to once again have hope.  One Doctor was still pushing for a scope to be done to find out what was going on in the liver, as he would not resume chemo until he knew.  Another doctor was telling us that having a scope done was far too risky with how thin his blood was still.  The scope was scheduled, post-poned, re-scheduled and ultimately cancelled.    It was determined that an MRCP would be a safer option, this specific scan can target the area they need to see and give very detail results... I am so glad that someone discovered this scan existed, it must have just been approved in the days before this, as I am sure that no medical professional would ever let a family be batted back and forth for weeks over one specific treatment that was too dangerous, considering the severity of this situation, when a perfectly safe option was right before them.  One would think.

As you can see my sense of humor has kicked in, in this case all I can do is joke now, because that is what this was becoming.  My sense of humor came from my dad, and it was so nice to see that his was making a comeback as well.  He started to joke with the nurses and his visitors.  What a refreshing change this was to see.  The sparkle in his eye was there when his grandkids came to see him. 

Thanksgiving was upon us, and we had so much to be thankful for.  Dad was slowly coming around and this made life easier for us all.  It was a hard holiday for us to get through without him being with us, so the decision was made to postpone it until he was better so he could enjoy it with us.  One of our traditions has always been to each share what we are thankful for when we sit for thanksgiving dinner.  This year, we would not share that moment, but in our minds we all knew.  Many years with this wonderful man, lessons he had taught us, trips we had taken, moments in time we would never forget.  That is what we were, and always will be thankful for.

Quite obviously I never made the choice to become a nurse, but one would think that in nursing school the object of compassion would be taught.  I can tell you that for most of the duration of my dad’s stay in the hospital we would not be so lucky with compassionate nursing staff. 

For a strong, independent man to become so dependent on other people was a bitter pill for him to swallow.  The situation was made drastically worse due to the many days he had to sit in his room, in isolation, with food he could smell sitting outside his door, out of his reach, all because kitchen staff would not gown up to bring it to his bedside.  Countless times I would arrive to visit him and find cold food waiting in the hall outside his door.  I would ask him how long he had waited for it, and sometimes it was upwards of 45 minutes.  Talk about a helpless feeling.  This is what cutbacks in our hospitals are causing.  It makes these nurses so busy that they do not have time to deliver a meal from the hallway to a bedside table.  It causes them to overlook a patient who has gotten sick on himself, and buzzed 3 times for help.  It keeps them away from someone who needs assistance to get to the bathroom, who would eventually attempt going by themselves only to have an accident on the floor.  Those same nurses would then point the family of this patient to the linen closet to get the sheets and gowns needed to clean up these messes.  This happened too many times to count, and that is sad.  This is what is happening in our hospitals? It scares me to think that other people may face the same degrading situations that we did.  The little confidence my dad could have had was taken away from him on a daily basis, when I would arrive the look of horror on his face knowing what I was about to find.  Imagine how that made him feel, to have his daughter clean up after him.  I am choosing to tone down the unimaginable events that we were faced with at that hospital, only because I do know nurses who work there and I would like to think that they do not want to be placed in a category with the nurses that we had the misfortune of dealing with.  To be honest it sickens me.

My level of anger had reached an all-time high, there were many days that I would have loved to just take him home and be his private nurse so that I could be assured he would never sit in soiled clothing, or wait for a meal that was just out of reach. 

Above all of this he still held his head high, as high as he could consider.  He still held hope that one of these tests would show something, anything that would lighten the severity of this. 

This was my lowest moment to date.. Not because of my dad's illness or what we were going through, but because I had to be witness to such a travesty at our local hospital.  To worry about leaving each night for fear that my dad would sit unattended to for hours and not be able to get to the bathroom.. Or worry that if I didn't arrive right at meal times my dad would have to sit without food.  I somewhat understand the situation he was in being quarantined or whatever it was they called it.  You couldn't just walk into his room, you had to fully gown and glove in the hall each time you left and entered the room.