StrawberryDaquiri, I’m so sorry you have to cope with all this. I wonder if you would find it helpful to write your dad a letter telling him how hard it is for you to come see him and how much you love him and wish he didn’t have to go through this. I think he might be comforted by reading it and you might find writing it to be a release. Just a thought. I know this is very hard.
Fuck cancer. 
My dad died when I was in college. In this case, it was totally unexpected, and also happened the morning that he and my mom were coming to college to visit my sister and I at the start of the new semester, when I hadn’t seen him for a few months. So, fuck shitty timing too.
I’m very sorry for everything you’re going through. Be gentle to yourself.
Fuck cancer right in the ear, with a rusty chainsaw. I’m so sorry, StrawberryDaquiri.
Thanks Yllaria, kayT, Ferret Herder, and Kolga.
I think I will write him a letter. That’s kind of why I posted here. Just needed to get it off my chest. I was waiting for my parents to call and tell me how it went at the doctor.
It really does help writing it all down and letting it go. It’s there, it’s on that page making it real. My accepting he has cancer won’t diminish his chances of beating it. My accepting that he is really sick won’t make him sicker. I’m so strange sometimes, I get it into my head that if I allow cancer into my life it will control my life. Whereas, if I act like it’s not there, it’ll just go away when it realizes it’s not affecting me; that it’s not winning. Unfortunately, while my consciousness agrees, my subconscious sends up red flags that that’s not logical. His cancer couldn’t possibly know whether I am acknowleding it exists or not. It’s going to run its course and win or lose either way.
**Thus, I get the “crazy eyes.” You know, that look people get when one eye is looking in one direction and the other is just slightly off; like their brain patterns aren’t all on the same track. **(this is a joke…or is it? 
)
I spend a lot of time pretending things aren’t really happening whenever something big like this happens in my life. I’ve been told I have trouble accepting things. I look at things logically, like today they said his bone marrow is now 80%, and all I think is “ok, well they have to up the chemo dose.” I don’t often add emotional feelings into my decisions. I try to be rational and I know I am never farther away from that than when I am hysterical. There are just moments when it hits me that this is really happening and how could I lose him/how would I feel/ yada yada yada and I go into shock. Most of the time it’s just a dull dread mixed with defiance that he’s gonna live.
I’m sorry about your dad Ferret Herder.
It’s OK, really. That was… geez, 20 years ago now. Most of the time it doesn’t really hurt, but sometimes it just fucking kicks me in the teeth and I tear up, or get in a foul mood for the better part of the day. Mostly when it’s stuff like realizing what life events he hasn’t seen, that kind of thing. (Or right now, but that’s OK.)
I don’t want to be a downer, but tell him about good things, good memories, what you appreciate. Even if it’s stupid stuff like talking about playing catch as a kid or how you thought he did a good job teaching you to ride a bicycle. If you have to apologize for something, do it, but I bet he already knows you didn’t mean it or are sorry for it.
And take the time to just crumple when you have to. I know well you have to be strong at times - this happened at the beginning of my senior year, plus I ended up being “the strong one” for stuff like dealing with the funeral director - but you can’t stay locked in that mode.
Seriously, be gentle with yourself. Dealing with this sort of thing is just terrible, and I can’t but imagine how tough it is seeing this kind of decline.
Goddamit, your kid is not fucking autistic. Fuck. Sure, he may be way on the end of the ‘autism spectrum’. But Jesustittyfuckingchrist. There’s a big difference between an introverted kid and someone who is no shit autistic.
Friend of mine, I really adore you. You have a great heart and a wonderful soul. But (did I say this already?) Jesustittyfuckingchrist. Some quack decided that your kid was ‘autistic’ when he was 2, and you’ve held on to that despite the fact that he really does get along. Really. It sucks that you are a ‘feeler’ and it caught ahold of you, but it’s become a huge part of your freaking identity.
I got the results today - my heart is normal. My cholesterol and blood pressure are also normal (and have been all along). That’s not the rant - I’m very grateful for that part. What I’m not grateful for is that in this modern day and age, a middle-aged woman has to undergo months of unpleasant testing to find out her heart is normal because the “normal standards” doctors use in heart screening tests are for men, and women’s hearts are apparently different. When I learned this, it was very much a What The Fuck? moment for me. How can the medical profession at this point not have a series of normal standards for women as well as men? What gives?
Strawberry Daquiri, I am so sorry you’re dealing with this. But that said, couldn’t your mother (or father’s wife, as the case may be) use your help at a time like this?
I’m coming from the place of my father’s dying of ALZ at the same time my husband was dying of cancer. I couldn’t be with my mother as much as I may have been able to be, as a sole caretaker, but I remain furious to this day with my 2 sisters who live out of state, who couldn’t come to help her, because “we don’t want to see Dad like that.”
I am truly not trying to hurt you, but I just think it’s very important your mother has all the support, both physically and mentally she needs, and respite when she needs it.
Identity Politics is a bitch. It warps, twists and distorts people because they’re so hellfire insistent that they are defined as people by One. Specific. Thing.
Which may or may not be true, relevant, or even worth being.
(((Strawberry Daquiri))) I have no advice, all I can say is that I’m sad that you are hurting so badly.
Cat Whisperer, that makes me mad as well. It took a very long time for my thyroid problems to be diagnosed because women don’t typically go hyper. We usually go hypo. My weight loss was blamed on “fad diets”, my hyperactivity and lack of sleep was because I was abusing drugs or caffiene. I fired my doctor when he said that and then shopped around for a female doctor, hoping that she might be more understanding. The first thing she ordered was a drug test. That totally pissed me off, but I took the results to yet a different doctor who finally ordered the right tests. I’m glad your health is good, I enjoy your posts and would miss you if you left.
This is going to sound strange, but I miss my Crazy Neighbor Lady. Her yelling at my strays and screeching at me for waking her up in the mornings has been such a constant in my life that it feels like something is missing.
I met her kids today. They seemed nice enough and asked me when I’d last seen CNL. When I told them that I’d seen her on Saturday and that she seemed OK, but mentioned that we don’t really talk, the oldest one laughed and said that she totally understood that.
CNL didn’t have a stroke. They don’t know whats going on yet, but CNL isn’t doing so well and has been transferred to a hospital in the Valley. Her kids were there to pick stuff up for CNL and clean out her fridge. Tossing her food out means that they don’t expect her to come home anytime soon.
We exchanged phone numbers and I said that I’d pick up CNL’s mail and newspapers until they stop coming. I’ll take her trash can to the street on the next pick up day, and watch her house. Nothing is going to happen to her house, this is a safe neighborhood, but it made CNL feel better and it seemed to make her kids feel better as well.
“They” don’t like using women in medical tests. Especially women who might want to get pregnant now or later, or who might even be pregnant now. “Their” pool of test subjects has been, for a long, long time, medical students…who are overwhelmingly white, male, and young adults. And now it seems that gee, the sex and age and ethnicity of a patient DOES make a difference in both symptoms and treatment. For instance, a federally funded study about the effects of diet on breast cancer…but the test subjects were ONLY MEN.
This has been rationalized by saying that nobody wants to have a possibly pregnant woman getting experimental drugs or treatment. And also rationalized by saying that the med students are available and know how important it is to follow the test procedures carefully. But the end result of not knowing how a large segment of the population will present a problem can’t be rationalized.
The normal patient is considered to be male (and white). A female patient is a deviation from the standard. And what works for white males might not work for females of any color, or it might not work as well. As you’ve discovered, the medical establishment can recognize symptoms in males fairly readily. Females? Eh, buncha hypochondriacs who spend too much time on the sofa, eating bonbons and watching soaps. Who cares about them? Men are important, especially white men.
((Strawberry Daquiri))
That makes (terrible) sense. At every stage, they were telling me, “Well, your results are probably nothing, but we have to keep testing to be sure because you’re a woman and women don’t test the same as men.” Well, then, figure out how women are supposed to test. Sheesh, that seems awfully obvious to me. We make up half the population, you know.
We aren’t the important half of the population, though. Or rather, we weren’t. One thing that has changed since more women are becoming doctors is that more women are actually in charge of designing and running the tests.
DummyGladHands, in response to your question, my mom doesn’t want me to come home. She’s afraid that since I’m at college I’ve picked up a cold or whatnot and am contagious. My sister went home two weeks ago when she thought she wasn’t sick and later we found out she had gotten my dad sick. His immune system is very weak right now so even a small cold could turn into something much worse.
My mom is an independent, tough person. She can handle more than anyone I know can.
I’m planning on going home this weekend if I’m not sick. My mom’s a main part of the reason I feel guilty about not being there.
That’s crazy about your siblings not helping out with their dad. I’ve seen ALZ, my grandmother on my mother’s side had it. It was horrible to see the sadness in my mom when she was dealing with that. My mom doesn’t act the same way with my dad. Cancer is a bitch because it’s hard to predict what will happen, there’s hope with cancer where there isn’t any with Alzheimer’s. My mom is so full of hope that she isn’t afraid of my dad dying. She was in a desperate stage of grief when her mom had ALZ.
If you don’t mind my asking, how long did your husband have cancer?
If you want to feel even more rage regarding the medical profession’s attitudes toward women, tell a doctor about your debilitating menstrual cramps. Most of the time they don’t give a rat’s ass, and will just tell you to get some Midol.
My friend has fairly severe PCOS, and her (male) doctor’s response was ‘Well, are you planning on having kids? No? Doesn’t matter then, does it!’
This is actually an improvement from when I started menstruating. Most (male) doctors then believed that cramps were all in a woman’s head, and that she just needed something else to focus on. Oh, sure, they’d tell you to take some aspirin, but that was just for the placebo effect.
Nowadays, most doctors do seem to take pain of all sorts more seriously. Or maybe I just have better medical insurance now. I used to go to military doctors and now I have excellent private insurance.
Aspirin? Back when my own period started, we were told to avoid it, as it was supposed to make your period heavier (due to the anti-coagulant properties).
And yet, a friend of mine who took nothing but aspirin as a painkiller, and who solved “it still hurts” by taking another, ended up in the ER with a bleeding ulcer - after taking two tubes of the stuff (40 250mg pills) in one day.
She’s now a doctor…
I eated all my herbed goat cheese.