I hadn't thought about this blog in awhile. I just linked to in on my other blog. And then I remember that I had posted this odd incident on Facebook on the 3rd anniversary of my dad's passing. I figured I should repost it here.

November 28, 2012 at 9:05am

So weird. This morning at 230 EST, my daughter woke us up because she managed to drop something on her head. Um, kind of sounds like something my dad would have done. It happened almost to the minute at the 3-yr anniversary of his passing. Strange energies.

Ides of March

It's been a while since I posted here. Mostly because I haven't felt compeled to write anything. However, today is the 3-year anniversary of the day my dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The day my world was rocked, and not in a good way.

Not many days (if any for that matter) go by that I don't think about my dad. It seems like even if I'm not specifically trying to think of him, something reminds me of him.

I might hear the word "sparky," and it reminds me of dad because it was pet name he used to call me.

Or I'll capture an image and think to myself how my dad would have been proud of that shot.

Or maybe I'm having a random conversation with someone about how I got into singing.

Naturally, these things all remind me of him.

I wonder how many years will go by before the memory starts to fade a little, or make me just a little less sad.

Maybe it never will.

Our Cancer Story: Thankful

Our Cancer Story: Thankful

Thankful

Last year, I spent Thanksgiving day in a hospital room with my mother and sister, keeping each other company and glued together as best we could, literally waiting for my father to take his last breath. In a way, at that time, I was thankful that he wouldn't suffer the way he would have had he been able to ride out the cancer longer. The stroke/coma combination was supposedly "easier" on him in the long run. I'll never know if that is true, but I would like to think it is. Regardless, it wasn't exactly the way I wanted to make Thanksgiving holidays.

This is the first Thanksgiving without my dad. Granted, since I got married, we celebrated Thanksgiving with my in-laws and Christmas with my parents, so it had been a few years since I sat down and had a turkey dinner with my dad. But there is a difference between not being in the same house and simply not being.


This photo was taken in 1980, the year my little sister was born. It was in my aunt & uncle/cousins' home in Camden, NY. I think it must have been at Thanksgiving. Being that it is a Thanksgiving memory, I'd certainly prefer to have it be one in the forefront on my mind over last year's memories. I do remember that little red polka-dotted dress. I had a matching one for my doll. I'd be willing to bet that at least one of them is still floating around my mom's house somewhere.


This has been a rough week. Almost as rough as this same week last year, just different. Holidays tend to be stressful, chaotic, nostalgic. Then life adds this memory-of-a-decease-loved-one curve ball at you, and it's a wonder people don't wind up sedated for long periods of time. Really.

On our way down to my in-laws' house yesterday morning, I nearly had my husband drop me off at the Warrensburg exit on the Thruway so I could call my sister and have her come get me. I wasn't certain I could function with my other family. All I really wanted to do was curl up at my mom's house and cry. It was all I could do to keep it together and not be a blubbering mess in front of my kids. But a nap and fresh perspective kept me from completely falling apart. I made it through the day with a lot of choked back tears, but not too many that actually fell.

I recognize that as much as life has crappy moments, and even at the worst times, there are always things to be thankful for. There are people out there who are much less fortunate and/or lucky, and life could be so much worse--I know that. I am truly thankful for my family & friends with their love & support and blessed to have my husband and our four happy, healthy children.

anniversaries

I've decided they suck. At least some do.

I really didn't think I would be affected as much as I am. I think I'm pretty resilient. Maybe I'm just kidding myself; I think I'm pretty good at that, too.

When my dad was first diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, obviously we were all shocked. I was probably in denial. I may still be. But one year ago today was the beginning of the end of a very long roller coaster ride. My dad had a stroke, just about this time on that day. By the time I left him and my mom and sister at the hospital late that day, we thought things were fine. Or as fine as they could be given that he had a stroke and was in the hospital. Cancer complicates everything. I suppose he might not have even had the stroke if his body wasn't compromised from the chemo. But he did. And when I left the hospital that night, I certainly didn't think it would be the last time I saw him. I talked to him on the phone the next day, and maybe the one after that. But the next time I got to see my dad, he was comatose. So while he was still my dad, he wasn't my dad, if that makes sense to you.

Today is just a day like any other. But I'm in this funk that will not let up. And I guess I now know why. It's the anniversary of the day my dad had a stroke. The anniversary of the last day I was able to see and talk with him. Somehow knowing that, affects me more than knowing the anniversary of his actual passing is rounding the corner.

Classic Dad

I bought a new lens for my camera. Dad would be proud. This baby is HEAVY, weighing more than my camera itself. A sweet, uber-sharp standard focus lens. He made fun of my "plastic," lightweight digital camera lens when he first saw my digital SLR.

Much of my dad's photographic equipment is sitting in my basement. My mom didn't really have a use for it. My sister would like a camera. So I have flash units, cameras, lenses, filters, and stands galore.

My new lens needs a filter. Preferably a UV filter, but just about any basic filter will do, since really I just care about protecting my investment. Filters are a relatively inexpensive accessory, as far as camera equipment goes. I didn't order one when I got the lens, thinking I could use one of the 125 in my basement (it may not be that exact number, but close; maybe 117). Of all those filters? A single filter that fits my lens. One sad, lonely filter--that's BROKEN!! The threads are crushed. I mean, are you kidding? Why would you not throw that out?? Classic Dad. I'm sure at some point my dad duct taped it on so he could use it. Why chuck it if it can be retro-fitted?

I told my sister that story on the phone tonight. I think I began the conversation something along the lines of, "Oh, speaking of classic, I have a Classic Dad for you." She laughed, of course, and maybe even got a little choked up. (Fine, I did too.) She then proceeded to tell me about her Classic Dad of the week story. In the middle of the night last night, she used the bathroom and when she flushed, the flusher didn't work. So upon opening the lid to the tank to flush it manually and figure out what was wrong...she discovered the chain was broken. Or rather, dad's zip tie chain had broken.

Classic Dad.

Ides of March

It was one year ago yesterday when we found out my dad had cancer. I wasn't sure if that date mattered. It didn't bother me on a conscious level, but boy did my subconscious know it. It was just one of those down days, no matter what I tried. Today is a little better, although, it is my Grandma Chaffee's birthday today.

But as "luck" would have it, tomorrow is St. Patrick's Day and that's always a good day, right?

huh

It's still very surreal. Most of the time I'm fine, but there are the occasional reminders that tug at the heartstrings. The questions I get from the kids are the hardest. This weekend, my mom was reading to Zach and he asked her if he could say goodbye to Papa. Ugh. He had come into the hospital to talk to Papa and say goodbye when we got there the night before Thanksgiving, but while he is old enough to "get it," I'm not sure how much he really does get it.

It's going to be a strange holiday, that is for sure. And next year's will be just a rough, I expect. Maybe worse. But I hope they will get easier as time goes on. I was wrapping gifts last night and came across the things I bought my dad for Christmas. I had mentioned to Erika that I had these things, and we half decided that we should have a "dad" night and try to enjoy some of the stuff we had already bought (favorite hot chocolate, mugs, and 24-hours of WWII documentaries;) in honor of him. Obviously, my mom will be invited, too, assuming we do anything. But at least we could all be together and feel close to him and one another.

proud papa

It's been a rough week, as you can only imagine. But is amazing to see how many people's lives daddy touched in such a positive way. It seems he wasn't just our light, but sunshine for others as well. I think just about every person I spoke to Monday and Tuesday told me how he always talked about his grandbabies and how proud he was of me. It was nice to hear. You know you think they are proud of you (or at least they have reason to be) but you only hear it once in awhile. On days when you really need a lift, it seems like a nice way to honor someone by sharing stories and memories.

There were some funny ones, let me tell you. My dad was one accident-prone man, I think from the day he was born and on. The stories i have heard over the years and some new ones I have heard in the last week...If you know my dad, you know what kind of stories they were...

Today was my mom's 64th birthday. Pretty hard to celebrate after yesterday, but we all have to move forward. Life goes on and so must we. We found some pretty funny things that made us laugh today, so we are marking new memories of daddy as well. And then we went out for dinner wih great family and friends, enough to relieve the sadness even for only a short while.

I am taking mom back to Burlington with me on Friday. We are going to Boston to the American Girl Place and doing the sleepover at one of the hotels nearby. Should be fun and will certainly be a distraction. What cute granddaughter isn't? Oh, the shopping in Natick, MA, won't be too bad either.

The formalities

For anyone interested, the calling hours will be at Seymour Funeral Home in Potsdam tomorrow from 2-4 pm and 7-9 pm. The funeral service will be at the United Methodist Church in Potsdam at 3 pm on Tuesday.

it's over

he's at peace. my mom has gone to the hospital to say a final goodbye. I took my ambien. I just don't have it in me. She'll need my strength over the next while, anyway.

messed up

I never gave much thought to the holidays in terms of what they mean when you have lost loved ones, especially when the loss is so proximate. I don't think I'll ever be able to have a Thanksgiving without remembering what a lousy holiday we just had. It's the first Holiday, and I certainly hope the last, where I spent the day at the bedside of a dying loved one. It's fortunate enough that my kids don't quite "get it" yet, and for that I am thankful. It's hard enough to answer the questions I am getting...

why is papa still sleeping?
when is he going to wake up?
why is grandma still at the hospital?
why is papa's door closed?

The older two know about the cancer and they know that eventually he will die from it. But they don't understand why the papa they saw who was just"fine" on Sunday morning will not be coming home.

Wednesday afternoon when the severe bleeding was confirmed, the doctor told us it could be a few hours or it could be a few days until he passed. They said he wasn't in pain, although i guess we really will never know. He seems comfortable. 48 hours later, and several "we think it's imminent" moments, he's still fighting. You can hear his breathing getting weaker and you can see that he is slowing down, but he's still hanging on. I wish this could be over, and I would never say that if I thought there was any prayer of him coming back. But there's not, and he wouldn't want this dragged out, any more than we do. It's been the roughest week of my life and the worst 48 hours I have ever known. The roller coaster ride is nearly over, although the sadness of the loss-to-be is just beginning to settle in.

From bad to worse

Things have gone from bad to worse and there is little that gives me hope this evening, except that he is comfortable and loved. For nearly 30 years he has been my daddy and I am facing the reality that I am going to be a fatherless child before my birthday, probably before that. The bleed has progressed and now we have to wait for his body to tell us what his mind can not. I think I need to go to bed. It will be a very long next few days.

downward spiral

my mom just called. something happened overnight and there is more bleeding at the clot area. he's basically non-responsive and not likely to change. So I am heading to NY after all. Apparently any germs I bring won't really make a difference at this point.

Round and round we go

My mom went to visit my dad when she got done working this afternoon, to find he had digressed yet again. Slow, garbled, weak. She said he had improved slightly by the time she headed home this evening, but the scan they did this afternoon shows a little bleed by the clot. Dr said he it isn't "critical" just "difficult."

I was planning to go over tomorrow afternoon and stay for Thanksgiving day and maybe through the weekend, but since we seem to have this giant black cloud that refuses to budge, that won't be happening. I now have a fever, so my visiting and bringing germs becomes the last thing my daddy needs, despite how much I would like to be with him and my mom and sis.

Seizure

is the latest word. The doctor believes that yesterday's "episode" was a seizure caused by the blood clot. His motor control on his right side is improved over yesterday afternoon, so that is positive. Right now, he basically gets a babysitter in case there are any more seizures.

The Tables Always Turn...

So later this morning my dad had some kind of "episode" as my mom referred to it. Maybe an anxiety attack of some sort, not sure. But he was distressed and had labored breathing. They took him for testing and have determined there is a clot in the brain, and the inflammation is causing some of his symptoms. Right now, he's resting comfortably and the have increased his anti-inflammatory meds. My mom said when he is awake, he seems to be able to articulate fairly well and is annoyed at having to be in bed. He also asked for lunch, so that is good.

But right now, we're still on hold mode and waiting...

Those random hour phone calls

The ones I generally hate because they seem to never be good. Well this one was good and totally made my Monday morning. My mom called to say that my dad called her!!! He was able to use his right side enough to make a call. And he was grumbling about how hungry he was. He's no been cleared for some food, at least liquids, maybe the eggs he wanted, I'm not sure. But he was able to make a call and doing really well this morning. Such a relief to hear a hint of hope in my mother's voice. Word on the street is that if he continues to improve, he may be able to go back home in a few days. Keep those fingers crossed.

Irony

It's funny how life works sometimes. Ironic that my sister posted the post she did yesterday. And also ironic is how the timing of the next 24 hours played out.

We drove to Potsdam yesterday morning to celebrate an early Thanksgiving Dinner as a family. After dinner, my parents were going to watch our kids while we went to Gouveneur to visit very close friends, including one couple who is only in the States for a few days.

We had a lovely dinner with my parents, my family, and my sister and her boyfriend. It was a nice several-hour affair with yummy homemades, including an apple pie I made upon my mom's request. We visited and then headed to visit our friends for the evening. We had a lovely time with some of the most amazing people I know. The kind of people you can only hope to have as friends. Relaxing, music, food and wine, and games. Just an overall nice evening. And then a leisurely morning of homemade banana bread and coffee.

I was supposed to get together with my sis for coffee on our way back through, but she wasn't feeling great, so we skipped it. I called my mom to check on the kiddos and see if there was anything I could grab from town. She suggested the paper for my dad. So we found a store that had his preferred paper in stock, and headed home. All the kids were playing a reading quietly when we walked in the door. I went to the living room to bring my dad his paper. He was napping and didn't really respond to my handing him the paper. So my mom kinda hollered for him to wake up and be sociable. But then he still didn't respond, which was odd. When he did respond he was clearly out of it and incoherent. And then we noticed the right side of his face was kinda droopy. Oh $h!t!! So talk about crazy timing. Dial 911--they are on their way. My kids are packed into the car and headed to the store to "run an errand" by the time the ambulance arrives.

They do their thing; my dad is on his way to the ER. I ride with my mom and my hubby takes the kids to lunch and the playground. My mom had tried to send us back to VT, which is what the original plan was. Nice try, mom. I'm not going anywhere except with you <<>>.

Crazy next few hours, but a CT shows no bleeding in the brain and no tumor (which was one possible explanation). So it turns out to be "just" a small stroke. But it could have been worse, I guess??!!!?? Certainly didn't seem that way at the time.

When we finally headed back to VT this evening, he had been admitted and was still "stroking" as they called it. By the time my sister left awhile later, he seemed to have improved and had some coherent moments and his limp right side was a little stronger.

So now it's more of a waiting game. See what happens over the next few days. He may go home soon; he may never go home.

I'm thankful for a lot of things in this life.

• Thankful for the extra time we have managed to get over the last 8 months.
• Thankful that we were able to have a nice dinner together right before this happened.
• Thankful I was able to be there for my mom when this did happen--she always acts like things are fine and she has everything under control, but I know it's a facade most of the time. She's good at bullshitting to protect us when she feels the need to do so.She is my rock.
  
• I'm thankful for supportive family and friends, as I really don't know what I would do without them.

And I'm thankful for the love that has always surrounded me that helps me to be positive even when the world is crashing down around me. My mom and dad are amazing people, and even in the face of all this, they have been optimistic and upbeat.

As my dad would say, now we just "wait and see what develops."

What's this "last" you speak of?

What's this "last" you speak of? We don't talk like that. This has been by far the most stressful period of my life. I never realized how much this whole process takes out of you, even as an observer. It consumes mass amounts of time, finding new articles, more research, anything to give me a little extra jolt of hope. As the weather changes I can see the change in my dad's attitude. I still haven't been able to decide if it's becuase the days are getting shorter or his life is. It's frustrating when the most happy-go-lucky guy you know with a million jokes has nothing funny to tell me when I call.
I don't think that dad's received the oral chemo yet. It's supposed to come in the mail and first they had to get through all the red insurance tape which is ANGERING to say the least. Couldn't they just send it and deal with the red-tape later? It's been a little over a week since he should have had his last treatment and I feel like in the mean time the tumors could be growing and there's some lady somewhere sitting behind a desk on her thumbs who doesn't know my dad, or care how much he means to us. Every day that we waste is a day that we could have...well...not wasted.
He went to the ER tonight with pain in his foot and ankle, it was all red and swollen so we were worried about an infection. Turns out it was uric acid build up from being dehydrated and the kidneys not filtering out as much as they should. It makes me nervous...was this just a fluke thing or is something wrong with his kidney's now? Everything makes me panic. Panic is my new state of being, I guess. I jump when the phone rings, and each moment that I'm not with him I worry that I'm not spending enough time with him.
Once classes are done for the semester I think I'll start going over there more. Maybe with the oral chemo he'll have some more good days and we'll be able to travel or do something fun as a family.
Jana's coming up tomorrow so we can have an early Thanksgiving. Although it might not feel like it at times, we are blessed and have so much to give thanks for. It will be nice to be together even if it isn't the "actual" holiday. I think we should make our own holidays. Every day we spend as a family should be a holiday. A day to give thanks, a day to be greatful for the people and things in our lives that have made us who we are.
See you all tomorrow!