Being diagnosed.
The fall of 2014 changed my life forever. Up to this point, I really only read about this terrible disease and seen others go through it with their loved ones. I was always the girl that didn't know what to say to someone who was affected by this disease. I was at a loss for words when others were hurting because I had no idea what they were going through. September 5, 2014, was the day that changed.
I was working at Chipotle at the time. I just got off my drawer and was counting it down with the manager who yelled at me for checking my phone because I had gotten that text message that changed everything for me. The text that said, "He does have cancer."
My step dad was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. That had metastasized to his bones. It only took months for him to be accepted into Hospice Care. It was around October. Right after he stopped radiation treatment.
Once November flew around, he was in his room for 24 hours of the day where there was a single bed, a hospital bed, and a recliner. My mom worked every day, so I stayed over to medicate him and take care of him.
Emotions that couldn't still ...
During those last two months of taking care of him, I was able to tell him how sorry I was for everything that I've ever done to him.I had just moved out right before he was diagnosed because I didn't want to live with him anymore. I didn't appreciate or realize how much he cared about me. I grew bitter over the years and we barely had any conversations that did not include yelling or telling each other where to go and how to do it. He too was able to tell me how much he really loved me and thought of me as his own daughter.
Every day was a new adventure for the next month of December. The amount of medication that had been ingested and he had no idea who I was half the time. He was growing further away from his personality just to be comfortable from the pain he had been in.
I still can see his fragile hands. He had lost so much weight just from September to December. His skin was rough and the tops of his hands were hairy with small veins sticking out. His eyes were sinking into his face and his facial hair was scruffy and gray from not shaving. He wore plaid pajama pants and his lime green work shirt. He grew sicker each day.
Two weeks.
I remember the hospice nurse, Mary, who told us that we should prepare ourselves and there was not much longer left. Two weeks.
Two weeks to savor. Two weeks to enjoy the person who taught me how to play softball, put up my basketball hoop, that taught me to drive and pushed me to be a good student. To thank him for everything he's done? I choked up. My mom, who I hated to see cry, couldn't contain herself. I felt like a piece of me was gone. But I had to make the best of the last two weeks.
We spent Christmas Eve and Christmas day in his room watching Christmas movies on Hallmark. We opened the presents we had to open and watched him open his presents.
Christmas shopping was hard — what do you get a man whose dying? Answer: Love. Slippers. Comfy clothes. Something meaningful.
As I write this, I realize that many of you have gone through a journey with this terrible disease also. The feeling of not being able to cure it and watching your loved one deteriorate. I still become weak while thinking about it. So I'm sorry. I feel for you in many ways than just one. On Father's Day, on his birthday, on Sept. 5 and on Dec. 30.
His friends would visit him and ask him, "Iron Head, how are you feeling?"
He would always tell his friends he wouldn't make it into 2015.
On Monday, December 29, Mary came to check up on him and told us how good he looked. He was talking and in good spirits. I was not feeling so well, so I went home that Monday night thinking we had a little more time left. I didn't want to get him sicker than he already was. I was up all night coughing until about 6 a.m.
I woke up two hours later to a phone call from my sister. "You need to get here now."
January 5th, I went to my first funeral and my first military funeral.
Cancer had affected my school schedule.
Cancer changed my outlook on life.
Cancer made me become closer to someone I thought I hated
Cancer emotionally ripped me apart.
Cancer made my family closer with God
Cancer is the reason that I've matured quickly.
Cancer is the reason I attended my first funeral.
Cancer took my step dad's life.
