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Cancer won. Not without a fight, but that ugly monster won. The week of June 23, Mama called to tell me that Daddy wasn't doing well. He was more confused than usual, and somehow ended up naked outside of his closet or bathroom. NAKED! My daddy. The man who always dressed in the closet. The man Brooke peeked in on in the shower to see if Pops showered with his clothes on (admittedly, she was VERY young at the time, and very shocked to learn the truth about). After some thought and discussion with my brothers, I decided to go down to visit him on Friday (June 27) and JB was to go with me. This was probably one of the top 5 decisions I have made in my life.
JB and I headed down early that morning. Pops was in bed, but he had enough energy to give me a hard time about bugging him and to order me around. He and JB spent a lot of time together. I don't know what all they discussed, but I do know they planned a golf date for the future and long as JB was allowed to drive the cart - he doesn't trust Pops. It was a wonderful day. When it came time for us to head home, Daddy gave me a kiss and said, "I love you". Only the second time I can remember hearing him say such a thing.
When JB and I got into the car, he said, "I don't think Pops is going to make it much longer." I had to agree. Mama planned to call hospice back in on Monday. Things were quickly becoming more than she could manage alone.
During the night Daddy got up to go to the bathroom. He was so weak he needed Mama's help to make it there. While on the toilet, he leaned on her chest, sighed a contented sigh, and passed. In one of his favorite spots with the love of his life beside him. Probably the best way possible for him to go. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him and miss him. I start to call just to talk and then remember that I can't, so I just talk to him wherever I am. He managed to make a miraculous comeback for a few months, but ultimately cancer won the final battle. At least he went out on his own terms. I truly believe he held on until his could have some time to visit with his oldest grandson. To make sure JB knew he was loved and adored. I just feel honored that I got to be there, too... I love you, Daddy!
What a rollercoaster ride! Daddy made it through Christmas (and seemed to be doing much better than he had been at Thanksgiving). He started going up and down the stairs, building strength. He was able to start going to Maxwell again. His life was starting to get back to some semblance of normal, whatever that may be, and Mama asked him if he would consider going back to the oncologist to check on some type of treatment. He agreed to go - for her.
A couple of weeks ago they did a bunch of blood tests to try to get a read on what was going on in his body. The same tests they had run back in September when he was told that he had pancreatic cancer and his days were very limited. I don't know all the specifics, but I do know that one of the tests that showed markers for cancer were at levels over 280 back then... the results this month came back under 1. That's less than ONE. A decimal point before the number! Almost 300 times less than it was five months ago! Nothing short of a miracle.
Just to be sure of things the doctor ordered a PET scan for this week so they could look inside his body to see if anything was "glowing". (I don't know if the cancer cells actually glow, but that was the term that was used when the process was being described to me.) They found nothing. NOTHING!! My daddy is cancer free! He still has some other issues he needs to take care of, but they are minor after being told to get your affairs in order because you only have months, at most, left to live.
When I shared the news with each of the kids about his miraculous recovery, they each said, "Wow!" with a bit of wonder. What else could they say? That's how we all feel. But then after a moment to think about the situation, all three of them added, "Stubborn old man." They know their Pops! And are all thrilled to know that he's going to be around for some time to come.
