So they have cancer?
The first cancer hit Pop shortly after he retired in 1990. He was about 62 when they discovered the prostate cancer, which was “successfully” treated with radiation. I still distinctly remember the phone call when Mom told us about it, playing it down and making it seem like no big deal. “It’s nothing”, she said, “They’ll treat it”, “He’s as good as new”.
I was worried, of course, but quickly returned to my important, stressful career and new husband, taking Mom at her word that it wasn’t a big deal, and I had absolutely nothing to worry about.
Don’t be me.
What I didn’t realize at the time, and never could have envisioned, was that this one little problem wouldn’t actually go away. Oh, no, just the opposite.
It killed him. It took over 20 years, but that damn NBD prostate got him.
So, you got that call, huh…
It always starts with that phone call, when it comes to The Job, doesn’t it? Whether it is your loved one calling, or a doctor’s office, or a sibling, it starts with the ringing of the phone. You answer it innocently enough, not realizing the world is about to cave in.
How you respond, from that very first phone call, is going to be very important.
We kept Pop alive and kicking with one very powerful force: Positivity.
What are we talking about here?
When you recover your breath and can think a little bit, you will have lots of questions that need to be answered. After the tears and prayers and promises of a quick recovery, it’s time for you to settle in and find out exactly what you are dealing with.
- Annoying – The prostate was little more than an annoyance. Really, the skin cancer that followed that—and continued to plague Pop for the rest of his life—was also more of an inconvenience than anything else. Neither of them came anywhere close to killing Pop, and they were both handled relatively easily with office visits and a little outpatient situation. These “trial” cancers are strangely simple to deal with, and it’s easy to get lulled into a sense of power and security when you take care of them. They are the one or two ants that come to the picnic first, to see if it’s worth it to bring the army.
- Deadly – Maybe not the first one, but eventually you will be given that death notice that cancer can become. My father-in-law, for example, was able to give up one lung when cancer set in, but when it moved to the liver, it was all over. Getting that diagnosis can come with absolutely no warning at all, which is probably the absolute worst thing that can happen. Finding out your loved one has cancer to a degree that death is imminent speeds up the grief process immeasurably. While this certainly happens, it is more common to have cancer kind of rev itself up to get to The Big One.
- Permanent – Here is my unsolicited, personal opinion about getting a cancer diagnosis: Once you have it, it will come back. I take no pleasure in this feeling, since Sweet Husband was diagnosed with an “annoyance cancer” over ten years ago. But I really do believe it to be true. Once it finds a way into your body in some form, you will either get hit by a bus, or it will come back in another form. Hopefully, I’m wrong in the case of your loved one, and you can beat this demon once and have it not come back. Just be ready, that’s all I’m suggesting.
Sharing The Details With Your Loved One
I was at school when Pop’s doctor called, asking to see me privately that afternoon. He and I talked about the kidney, the prognosis, the plan of attack.
Then he suggested I call my brothers and sisters to come home.
I shared absolutely every single detail of every telephone call with doctors with Pop. He and I really had no secrets, and talked about everything at great length to make sure he was ready to go, and that I was ready to take over.
We didn’t tell Mom quite as much. I still don’t.
Your loved one has an absolute right to know everything about their health, suggested treatment plans, and the likelihood of any side effects or negative problems that might come up. It is, after all, their body, and it is still their choice. While in pain, Pop remained completely in control, and deserved to have all of the information.
The problem was that Pop had trouble with the medical lingo. As I’ve told you, I spent hours studying the problems and diseases my parents were diagnosed with, so I had no difficulty following the intricacies of cancer and treatment plans.
My primary job with my parents was to explain it to them in a way that they could comprehend the information and make an informed decision. Since Pop was still sharp as a whip to the end, I wasn’t the decider per se, but my council was very much appreciated and expected.
Sharing The Details With Your Relatives
So, I did call my siblings about the kidney, but the doctor was wrong. After a lengthy recovery and tons of physical therapy, Pop regained enough health to come home. He was still two cancers away from death, actually.
It is incredibly important, however, that you share information with your relatives or anyone who loves your parent. I did, however, clear all communications through Pop in advance, because it is still his medical news and he has the right to keep certain details private.
I respected his wishes when it came to disseminating information, and I suggest you do the same. Cancer is already trying to rob them of their dignity—don’t you do it, too.
Creating An Action Plan
At the time of diagnosis, your medical team is going to have a plan of action they want to recommend. I strongly suggest you listen quietly and politely…and then say YES to whatever they recommend. Their job is to restore your loved one to health, so you are on the same team. Unfortunately, it might be a very bumpy road back to health. Buckle up, Buttercup.
- Surgery? – There will reach a time when the medical team will tell you it’s no longer safe or advisable to do surgery on your loved one. At that point, you have other discussions ahead of you. Until then—cut the bitch out! Every time cancer attacked Pop, I went to the appointments with a pen in hand, ready to sign the consent forms for surgery. It’s the only thing that comes close—in my opinion—to eradicating cancer from your body.
- Radiation – Chemotherapy’s little brother, some things can be treated effectively with radiation. Pop had radiation with that pesky prostate, and it did work for quite a long time. The only caveat with radiation is that a patient can only have a certain amount of radiation in their lifetime, so this is not usually recommended for a younger patient.
- Chemo – Stop shaking your head! This isn’t your grandmother’s chemo! When Pop had chemo, they had a good enough chemical cocktail coursing through his veins that he did not feel nauseated at all, and only suffered from some fatigue and weakness. A day in bed after chemo, and Pop was pretty good for the rest of the week. If this is the only course of treatment offered to you, just make sure they are doing everything possible to minimize the side effects.
- After-care – This is the one everyone forgets. After surgery, remember that your loved one will probably go to a rehabilitation facility, and maybe even a step-up facility after that, before returning home. I found this time period the toughest of all, since Pop hated going to these places, and it put quite a strain on me visiting every day and keeping up with the various doctors and specialists that were seeing him during the days. Once Pop was home, it became much easier to manage his ongoing care.
Is it time to move in?
This might be the first major medical episode in your tenure as Mayor, and could potentially lead to your loved one moving in with you. That is entirely up to you, for sure.
What I ask you to consider is the potential disruption to your life whether they move in or not. I got sick of flying to and from Florida to take care of medical issues, leaving my job and my young family. The prostate certainly didn’t make me think twice, but once things became more invasive, we had to make a decision to move them closer to me.
What does this mean long-term?
I don’t know.
It is, conceivably, just one medical episode in a very long story—like Pop. In that case, you can manage it quite well, and then return to whatever existence you had before. Pop bounced back fairly well from all of the cancers until things came down to the wire.
Maybe it’s just something that happens once, and you handle it. I don’t know.
Life After Cancer
But, I can definitely say there can be life after cancer. It can be great. It can include family vacations and cruises right up until the bitter end. Pop cruised in July and died in October, and your loved one can, too.
All I can tell you is my experience: We had a golden 18 months. Literally. Between medical crises, Pop had about 18 months of relative health and without pain. It was glorious.
So, yeah, get the chemo. Then recover in Hawaii.