So my dad. We ditched the clinical trials. With a two-hour drive, a bunch of medical specifications he probably wouldn’t fulfill, and only a 30% ‘positive response rate,’ we called it off. Instead we pitched to Dad’s oncologist to just do radiation on the lung. His oral chemo is so far keeping the brain tumor in check. No growth as of now. But the lung is growing, and getting a little too close to his aorta.
He’s going to do 15 radiation treatments in 15 days—bang bang bang. My 77-year-old father has gone through an almost unbelievable amount the past 18 months. Twelve blood transfusions. Radiation. Chemo. Hospitals. ER trips. Nine months of not swallowing, barely seeing, being almost verbally incoherent. He’s back to daily nausea and a vast smear of fatigue; yesterday, for example, he slept on and off basically all day.
My mom—72—has two bad knees which need replacing. This is after being replaced once already twenty years ago. She’s in exceptional pain. She’s my father’s main caretaker. For about a year it was she and myself, but then he got much better, and I got busier with work and a relationship. So it’s been mostly her. I still visit and help with little things. But now we’re wondering if I might have to help a lot more once my mom gets the first knee replacement; she’ll put off the other knee for a while. But my dad relies on her completely at this point.
My dad is stoic as always, though his eyes look more drained, frustrated and exhausted than usual. He seems spiritually whipped. Can you blame him? Amazingly, he’s still working from home, on his computer 10-15 hours per week. My mom and I agree that when he stops wanting to work it’ll be close to the end. The doctor in charge of radiation called and spoke to them a couple days ago. My mom asked about realistic timelines. Doc said, if everything goes well, perhaps one year.
One year. Yeah. Sounds about right. I feel sad and grateful.
Meanwhile my new 40-year-old self is excited to be ‘moving in’ with my girlfriend. In truth we’re doing a test run. For now. I’m holding onto my apartment in Santa Barbara but I’ll be living—with my cat—with her at her home in Lompoc. We’ve been together almost five months. We both feel it’s hard to not see each other for days at a time. Plus I miss my cat when I’m with her. And the 50 minute commute is a bit draining. If I end up having to care for my dad I can come back temporarily to my apartment, or I can stay in the downstairs spare room at my folks’.
One way or another it’ll all work out the way it’s ‘supposed to.’ Thinking that way, if nothing else, comforts me, even it’s more mystical and less rational.
My girlfriend Britney and I have our struggles as a couple. What couple doesn’t? But we love each other fiercely. We’re determined to preserve this mutual love. I feel like she’s also become one of my best friends. I always want to be with her. It seems I’m learning new things about myself and about relationships right now. Being with her is teaching me, to be more loving, more open, more gentle. To risk more. To give up more control. In some ways it feels like my first ‘serious’ relationship. I see it as my last relationship, as in I plan to marry this woman.
One door seems to be slowly closing. Another is swiftly opening. My heart greets them both.
Is this not the nature of life?
Sending lots of positive thoughts your way. (And congrats on the move-in/test run!) I've also been dealing with "holding things together" on the family front. Can relate to the weight of that. No one warned me this age would be so hard. Thank goodness for love, and cats. :)