My father was diagnosed with renal cancer last year, and has since has an operation to remove the infected kidney (left). At first we didn't believe the diagnosis because he didn't seem 'sick'. But knowing the risks we (the family) vocalised the risks of not having the surgery to my father, and made him realise that it was his best chance of survival (though he could've died on the table). Thankfully he pulled through the operation, and his remaining kidney was functioning well enough that he didn't need dialisis at this point. However, when my father was called for his 6 month check up the world came crashing down on my family. We'd taken the risk to have such an invasive surgery to save his life before the cancer spread - and it was supposed to work. But it didn't. The doctors informed my father that the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes and lungs. Now they say it's terminal.
This was just over a week ago, last Wednesday. They haven't given him a time frame, but I did the research and it doesn't look good for a man of his age (65) and weight. I'm only 20, my little sister 18, and I'm not sure how my family are going to cope with the realisation that my father won't live for many more years. We are still in that state of cold shock, waiting for more information but knowing that no matter what the doctors say we won't believe he's dying. For one he doesn't seem sick... he coughs a lot, but he's always coughed.
A child needs their dad. I need my dad. Me and my sister have hardly grown up, and now I feel as though he's being taken away from us unfairly. It's not just that the cancer is terminal, but rather that it's a cruel trick. He was better. He took the risk, had the surgery and he was better. Now they say he's more sick than when they started. How am I supposed to accept such a thing? How?
I've lost close relatives before, I understand the pain of death more than anyone should. My grandfather died when I was still pretty young. After my grandma died, unable to live without him. Then I lost my Nan, whom meant the world to me. Then a family friend was killed in a fire. Then another family friend, my sister's god father, committed suicide. I thought that this pain would ease over time, but it doesn't... not really. If that wasn't hard enough I lost my uncle 6 months ago. He had suffered a long battle with MND and left behind a young son (2). I am no stranger to death, but losing a parent just feels so much more... As if I know when he's gone nothing will be the same. I worry for my mother, how she'll cope. I worry for my sister, who's still so young and innocent (believe it or not). For my other siblings, some of them aren't exactly made of the hard stuff - it'll hit them hard to. But then I think about me, because I'm losing my dad. The guy who held me when I cried, stayed with me when I had my nightmares, who makes me coffee now and talks with me about the stuff mum's don't get. He's the guy who fixes the car and put up the paintings on the wall... Is it stupid to think that when he's gone who's going to do that? Who'll do the washing up? Who'll help my mother change the lightbulb or fix her sewing machine?
It's so much more than losing a parent... It's so much more than losing a partner, or grandfather or friend... He's the glue that annoys the hell out of me, but I loved so dearly because he makes the family whole. I don't think I can get through the pain of losing my dad. I don't know how anyone does.
I'll share more of my story soon; how I figure it all out and how he's doing. Now share your own, because misery loves company.
To all you people out there who's lost someone to cancer, especially a parent... You're amazingly beautiful and strong, I admire you all so much.
Emily. x
