The day everything changed. Some think that having an answer to the aches and pains is what they need. An answer to why things are suddenly going wrong. Why you’re tired, why you’re not yourself. The answer to what is wrong! But finding out what is wrong doesn’t make it right and it never will make it right, sometimes it makes things worse.
I can’t remember what I did yesterday or the day before or a week before. But I remember the day my dad got diagnosed with cancer. November 11, 2015. It’s a day that many of us remember the fallen, the ones fighting for our country. But now I remember it as my dad fighting for his life. Saying he’s okay with dying, he’s okay with what’s going to happen. But seeing everything that has happened with more weight loss, his mind coming and going, always sleeping. Is he okay with that? Is he okay with really not being around anyone anymore. Only seeing the ones he hasn’t seen in years and not being apart of the things that will happen in the future? I know I wouldn’t be, I’d be scared (to death) that I would go to sleep and just sleep, not getting to see the sunlight ever again, not seeing ANYTHING ever again.
Who knows what the afterlife holds for us, there’s only one way to find out...a very gravely way to find out.
I’ve never liked hospitals, they’re always creepy. But that depends on who you ask. Babies are born, lives are saved...the hospital is a good place. People die, people are told they don’t have much time. The hospital is not a good place anymore. It was a Saturday...beautiful, kind of chilly Saturday.
We were crowded in the hospital room. My mom, my sister, me and my dad sitting on the bed. The humble doctor come in to explain everything. And by the way he was explaining everything, it was time to accept that things aren’t good. My dad had Stage 4 Metastatic Colon Cancer. To be honest I needed a dictionary to just process that diagnosis. There was no chance of really succeeding with any form of chemo, aggressive or not, the cancer had spread. We all thought initially, it was Lung Cancer. He was a smoker for years, quit for a while, but then started back again. It got to a point of a pack a day, he never realized it was too much. He was retired and all he did was sit and smoke. Me and my sister think that’s what got him to where he got.
The doctors say that the cancer cells have been in his system at least a year. So by the time he was getting symptoms of neck pain and the weight loss it was too late. The cancer had spread, there was no chance.
It’s really hard to forget the look and smell of that hospital room. To think of all the families and loved ones that were around that floor maybe going through the same news we were. Understanding the crying and the shouting at God for all the misdealings we were dealt. Understanding the pain we were about to endure. Maybe they could provide some guidance. But then again, could you walk up to a stranger and give guidance without knowing their paths in life?
D-Day for some is about a war. D-Day for our family is another kind of war, against Cancer. A war, without fail, we would not win.
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