Prostate Cancer Stage 4
Yesterday my Mom and Dad skyped to share the news that my Dad’s prostate cancer had come back and has now spread to his bones. Stage 4. So there’s really no treatment. No chemo, no radiation. Just some hormone therapy that might prolong his months and some medication to make him more comfortable. Chris read through a CT report they had emailed and tried to make sense of things and clarify information. Always glad he understands everything medically. (He’s anxious to see copies of the CT and Bone Scans which will arrive on Monday.) I was pretty quiet as my Dad talked. Of the two of us, Chris did most of the talking, and looked over at me several times thinking I must be in shock. Time seemed long and lots of thoughts popped in my head even though I didn’t want them there. …Is my parents house paid off? (It is.) …We should plan a couple’s only trip. …I wonder if my Mom will want to move houses? …Do we have a good picture of my dad? (Yes, of course we do.) …When will I see him? …How will the other siblings react? …I’m glad he’s been working on his personal history. …How can this be?
I told him “Enough of this COVID stuff. I want to come spend time with you.” I said the words but inside I felt that of course I needed to stay away now more than ever. I was emotional whenever I looked at my mom, who was trying hard to keep it together — but wasn’t succeeding. Luckily Chris kept talking. He asked solemnly, “David, how are you feeling about this?” Answering exactly how my Dad would answer he said, “Well, I’m disappointed…” (I smiled at that. Of course he would say it like that. Calm and even.) “but I feel resigned. I’ve had a wonderful life. So many great experiences. Great children who are all doing well. Great relationships. I feel like I haven’t had to deal with the trials that so many other people have. If this is the trial that I’ve been given… then I’ll do it.”
Chris was the one to say “Thanks for calling. We love you both so much.” I couldn’t speak. Tears dripped out and when we ended the call, they came out faster and I sobbed.
Today I’m feeling all the feels. Sometimes feeling disappointed but resigned — like my Dad. And sometimes feeling anxious and emotional — like my Mom. I’m equally them… and that’s good.
I woke up at 6:30 this morning thinking about my dad and willed myself back to sleep — and thus began a weird dream about my mom sending out announcements of my Dad’s cancer.
I talked to my sister, Amy this morning. It was good to talk, and be emotional together. And then laugh. And then cry some more. So much of the timing of the disease is unknown and then with this COVID19 on top of it, it’s uncertain how this will affect our gathering together. Will we be able to get together this summer? or before? I talked to Mike after lunch. So great to talk. Tears came sporadically and we commented about how sometimes you don’t know what’s going to spark emotion and what’s not. He was pretty shocked but is feeling grateful to be back in the States and not traveling abroad.
Over the next day or two I talked to all my siblings - and they to each other. We’re so grateful to have such an amazing dad and such a loving supportive family. We’re grateful for every day we have with him and will just take it one day at a time. We’re here for you, Dad! Love you.