"Shine on, you crazy diamond!"
November's Lung Cancer Awareness Month, and to recognise this Cheryl, one of our Online Community members, is sharing her experience with the cancer, which her dad, Derek, sadly passed away with earlier this year.
On February 26th, 2018 my lovely dad, Derek, was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer – non-small cell lung cancer with metastasis to his ribs, lungs, lymph nodes, spine, pelvis and hip … it had completely taken hold of him. My dad’s battle didn’t last long, he passed away in the local hospice on June 17th – Father’s Day of all days, just three and a half months from his diagnosis to him losing his fight.
His diagnosis came as a massive shock. I knew my dad wasn’t a well man as he had Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD) and had smoked his whole life. He had battled pneumonia a few times and nearly lost his life, but nothing prepared me for what was to come seeing him suffer with cancer. His battle was only short, but it was hard. He went from being an independent 59-year-old man to being reliant on support from others. He fought until his final week, but he just couldn’t fight anymore and ended up wheelchair bound and unable to walk. His cancer had completely taken hold of him and wasn’t going to let go. I watched my dad grow weaker by the day. He was unable to have further treatment; he’d had one round of chemotherapy and a shot of radiotherapy to try reducing the pain, but it didn’t agree with him, and unbeknown to us his cancer had already reached his brain – this couldn’t have been treated.
Going through the process alone was the hardest thing. I saw my father sit there looking straight through me like I wasn’t there. He had days where he couldn’t hold a conversation or find the ability to talk, and that was just heart-breaking. Then there were days where we could natter and laugh like there was nothing wrong. Those were the days where it was easy to forget his prognosis – death was on the horizon, but on those days, it wasn’t. We could just be normal.
For his last five weeks my dad was in a hospice. Those ladies were the best people to be around when you’re feeling lost; they take care of everyone, not just my dad but me too, you knew they were there to help. I had so many conversations about my dad’s life – how long has he got left? Not something you really want an answer to, but at the same time you do. They told me in private my dad was coming to the end, he’d two weeks if that left. The cancer was in his brain and it was taking over. All they could do was make him as comfortable as possible, and he was put on a syringe driver to help with the constant pain. He would be up and about, but you could tell the time was coming for him to say goodbye.
Something changed the week my dad passed. It happened so fast that it was very hard to deal with. Cancer creeps up on you like that. He was on oxygen, he couldn’t get out of bed without help. He wasn’t eating, hardly drinking and his breathing had changed so much - purring is the only way to describe it. I knew his time was coming, the nurses did too but they wouldn’t say the words. Sunday morning came, and he was gone. I knew he was going, I knew he would pick Father’s Day as he was a funny one like that ...
Some people say it’s surreal to be in the presence of someone who is dying – it’s true. You go through pure emotions, it’s something that’s hard to explain until you go through it yourself. Going through this everyday with my dad has been a very humbling experience. It’s taught me that my dad was a strong man, he was a fighter until the end, and it’s taught me to not take people for granted. It’s also taught me patience, it’s taught me to take time to enjoy people while they’re here. I stayed strong for him, but in private I’d have my time to cry, to process the day’s events and come to terms with what was happening, that my dad wasn’t going to be here much longer. I dealt with his loss before he passed away, I had time to process what was happening and it helped me so much. Don’t get me wrong its heart-breaking, but I had the means to deal with it properly.
When you’re told you’ve a life limiting illness you’ve time to plan, and that’s what my dad did. He’d his funeral planned before he passed, but he’d also time to spend and make memories with his loved ones. My only regret is I didn’t have pictures of me and him taken.
Cancer has taught me so much – it’s taught me that you’re are stronger than you could ever believe.
To find out more about lung cancer, take a look at the relevant page on our website. If you'd like to discuss lung cancer with others going through a similar experience, why not try our Online Community's lung cancer group; and if you're in a similar place to Cheryl, you might find some comfort and support in our bereaved family and friends group.
