doing "next"

Dad’s released from the St. Luke’s. YEAH! This week he has follow-up appointments with Powell (Internal Medicine), Monte (the surgeon), and Repka (oncology). This starts what we know will be at least 4 weeks of waiting for him to recover from surgery before they can start on chemo. Dad’s eating a bit, but we’re not sure what’s good or bad for him to eat. It’s also difficult because a decision needs to be made about whether to do chemo (we think yes, at least to give it a shot), but are unsure about whether to go to one of the 3 top places (Mayo, someplace in Texas, or Zion, IL), or to stay local at St. Luke’s. Once Mayo is decided upon, there’s a delay in when the earliest appointment can be scheduled. They schedule one for the 27th/28th. However, Dr. Farreeha (who Jean Godfroy (Waters)) works with, gets a Mayo appointment for the 21st/24th. We take it!

surgery recovery

Dad is a little less drugged. Amy and I spend a great morning with him, just talking and being quiet. Since I’m planning to leave a little after noon, we hold calls & visitors till after I leave. For the rest of the week Dad is in recovery. They don’t want to release him until he’s “functioning” again.

Dad and Amy are innundated with people's calls, visits, prayers, and love. People from our past, people from Mondovi, people from Iron River, and family. It's really mind-boggling and amazing. Dad continually says that he can sense peoples' prayers.

the news from surgery

So, the reunion was great. Had a sweet time (individually and in groups) with Joce, with Alex, with Deanna, with Santosh & Archana, with Heidi, and with other folks it was great to connect with. That being wrapped up, I decide to head out early Monday and drive to Duluth to be there in time for the surgery.

I get there 45 minutes before the surgery; just in time to catch him as he's being wheeled to prep. Amy and I (and 2 other folks from the church in Iron River) wait with him and talk to him. He looks pale, and is somewhat apprehensive about the surgery. The surgeon, the nurse & the anesthesiologist all talk to us about what they will be doing and answer questions. The surgeon tells us not to watch the clock; that he won't. He's a perfectionist and will do everything he can.

We tell him we love him and head out.

We hang around the waiting room for a while. I'm exhausted so Amy tells me to go sleep on his hospital bed. A nurse wakes me with a tap on the door and tells me where to find Amy. On the way to her, I run into some folks who tell me that the news isn't good. Amy's in a small, private waiting room with Roberta, her good friend. They tell me that he has cancer everywhere, and that it's terminal.

We go to a different waiting room near where his new bed will be when he recovers from surgery (on a med/surg floor). They say the surgeon will avoid him as he's regaining consciousness. Amy and I have the choice of whether to tell him ourselves or have the surgeon tell him. We say we want to tell him ourselves.

When he arrives, we wait for everyone to leave/get him settled. He asks hopefully what the results are. Amy tells him while I fill in a few details. He says, "oh really".

Later, the surgeon meets up with the three of us and tell us that the cancer has spread everywhere in his abdomen. Like rice scattered through a room. He can pick up the individual grains, but it's microscopic, and he still wouldn't be able to get it in any way that wouldn't have it growing back right away. He says it's been in there 'a long time'. And he says that with chemo he would guess Dad has 6-12 months to live. Without it - 2 to 6.

We spend time just being there. Roberta "guards" the door, so we can just have time to be there. He tells us he's not surprised at the diagnosis. He's not afraid of death, and he's glad that this gives him the opportunity to take care of Amy (get things settled for her before he's gone). Amy calls several "point" people who can share the news with others who know him.

I go out and call Paula, Tom, Katie, Ben and Jody. I finally cry.

Amy & I tell him we love him and drive back to Iron River for the night.

View from Saturday

Dad and Amy got a “pass” from the hospital to leave for part of the afternoon. They go for a lovely walk, eat gelato, and take shelter from a sudden rainstorm in a parking garage. We know he’s not digesting much if any food, so we have big hopes for the surgery.

more info

So they do a CT scan of the chest. Bottom line: the chest looks clear. They decide to do surgery to remove the stomach, hoping the cancer hasn't spread outside of it to the omentum. The surgery is set for Monday.

I debate about going to visit, but it's the Lawrence 10-year reunion and Joce, Alex, & Deanna are coming into town to stay with me for bits of the time. I decide to check in for updates and hang tight till I know more.

endo

Based on the endoscopy results, they tell us that there is a cancerous tumor in the stomach. They hope that it hasn’t spread outside the stomach. The results from the CT scan show some shadowing that could mean something's spread to the omentum (fatty sac surrounding the stomach, I think). They schedule a CT scan of the chest for tomorrow, hoping it hasn’t spread there. He's not eating, but is feeling better just not being in pain.

and we're in

Dad is completely miserable from the contrast. Amy's helping with Vacation Bible School, so she calls Larry Lind and asks him to take Dad to the emergency room. They admit him at St. Luke's, where they pump his stomach. He finally has relief from the incredible stomach pain and pressure for the time being. They give him an endoscopy, and preliminarily tell us that they think there is some “malignancy,” but they won’t say “cancer” yet.

contrast

Dad has to drink 2 full glasses of contrast for the CT scan. He gets it down and they are able to take the scan.

biliary schmiliary

St. Luke’s gives him a biliary (gall bladder) and liver function scan. He’s also scheduled for a CT scan of the lower abdomen on Monday.

calling in

I call Dad & Amy checking in - I haven't been in touch and hope everything's better from when he wasn't feeling well in May. It's 6:30 at night, and Amy says he's already in bed! I get pretty worried when she tells me he's been doing worse, not better, since I last talked to them. We talk a bit about her wrapping up the school year, and I'm glad to hear that Dad is scheduled to go in Monday for more tests to figure out what's going on.

Larry

Larry Lind talks Dad into going to urgent care at St. Luke's Hospital in Duluth, MN, and takes him there. It's Amy's last day of school.