Jan 22, 2016

Make out with a doctor

I called my parents Wednesday night as I hadn't spoken to them in over a week.
We aren't too keen on daily phone calls. 
I suppose there isn't anything overly new to rehash day in and day out.

My dad had mentioned his blood levels were elevated during some recent testing, and to waive his concerns, had agreed to a biopsy later that week.

Then came the radio silence.
And I guess the old saying is no news is good news, right?
So I called to check-in and get the standard verbiage from him...that he overreacted per usual and it ended up being nothing.
He was upbeat in tone, but then sort of stated that there was good news and bad news.

He was initially worried that the abnormal blood work could mean his prostate was enlarged.
But it wasn't....that was the good news.
In fact, he mentioned it was smaller than normal, so even less worry, I suppose.

And then he kind of paused..... and said the bad news was some of the cells they biopsied came back positive.

For cancer.

And at first I kind of brushed it off. My dad can't have cancer. 
I mean, he just retired a couple of months ago....it's not possible.
He's in good health and great spirits these days!
Cancer isn't a thing that happens to good people.

But yet.....it had.

And the more he talked, the more I visioned my life without him.
And the toll cancer takes on people.
And the treatments, and the money and the time spent in hospitals.
Away from his family.
Away from normal life.

Cancer now defines my dad and I can't think of anything else.

But still....he seemed positive. My dad isn't exactly known for his positive traits when it comes to health and well being. A lot of times, it's a mix of over-reacting and negativity.

The cancer was caught early and thank the lord almighty that science and technology is where it's at these days, because his biopsy is being sent to a DNA lab to confirm exactly what type of cancer he is dealing with and how aggressive it is.

His doctor's original orders were to "wait and monitor" it.
The sense of urgency in my dad's voice as he stated that wasn't an option made me realize why I am how I am.
He watched his own father "wait it out" per the instructions of his doctor.
His father was diagnosed with lymphoma.
And within a year, he had passed, because instead of jumping on some sort of treatment, they waited, and the cancer progressed so quickly that it metastasized to nearby organs and it was too late to save him.

But not my dad.

My dad wants a protocol and to hop on board as fast as possible.
He wants treatment and surgery if needed and wants to remove this fucking disgusting label from his name.

His results will be back early February and at that point he will hopefully have a game plan.

We continued talking for an hour. I think he could sense that I was tearing up on the other end because my voice was warbly, so he started telling me, in detail, about the huge probe that was shoved up his ass.

I mean....my dad has never been one to leave out the details...but I mean...COME. ON.
It was funny and terrifying at the same time.
He kept saying that was the worst part...and I kind of gulped...because what he described is, in a way, exactly what I have to go through this year.
At least twice.
Luckily, I will be under anesthesia....but holy shit.
That did not sound fun.

We talked about insurance for a bit, of course, it's our favorite thing.
We talked about retirement funds and stocks and car maintenance.
Normal things you would talk about with your daughter :)

I totally missed eating dinner.
Mark was out for the night with work stuff, but walked through the front door as I was getting off the phone.

And I just lost it.
I told him he has cancer.
I sobbed into his shoulder hard than I expected.

Even as I'm typing this, the random ugly crying spurts come and go.
Even though I know right now the odds are in his favor, I can't help but associate cancer with death.

Who doesn't?
He's MY DAD.

Ugh...I need to stop before I blubber again at work.

I was chatting with a friend this morning and broke the news to her.
It's weird that in 2016, both my dad and I will be elbow deep with specialists and doctors visits and geneticists. But for totally different reasons.

I am trying to bring a new life into this world,
and he is trying to save his own.

That is a weird concept to grasp right off the bat.

And my friend mentioned that I should hug a doctor...because technology and science is just so great, for us to even be able to consider what we will be doing this year.

To which I stated, "If all goes well for both of us this year, I will MAKE OUT with a doctor."
Promise and prayers, my friends.

I promise for more fun posts in the future.
Please keep us in your thoughts.
And of course, thank you for reading.


  1. sending lots of love y'alls way! Cancer is crazy! My college roommate was diagnosed when she was 26. Good luck to both of you in 2016!

  2. Oh man, Tia. you are in my thoughts sweet lady. Please let me know if there's anything I can do from Kentucky! Hoping for some good news for you guys soon.

  3. All my love to you and your family as you navigate this. Scary stuff - staying hopeful for the BEST possible results for all.

  4. I've been through this love, and my heart is breaking for you. I'll be praying for you and your family. Hugs, Kait

  5. Oh man, that's hard. I can't imagine. Especially as you are anticipating a very stressful event coming your way in a few short weeks. I have a feeling both outcomes are going to come out just beautifully. It's the waiting that is the torture. But from my stalking your blog it appears you and I share a common coping mechanism: #Wine. Drink up while you can. Cheers girlfriend. I'm rooting for you!

  6. I am so, so sorry to hear this!! It's got to be so hard. It is a call no one wants to get.I hate it that cancer affects and hurts so many people in this world. It makes you want to stamp your feet and scream because it's not fair! I hope that your dad's pro active attitude will carry him forward from now to remission. Wishing the best for him and your family.

  7. I'm so sorry to hear this news...sending positive thoughts to your family. It's awesome that your dad is being so positive and is ready to attack his diagnosis head on and so quickly. Stick together, you got this!

  8. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family! Hope everything works out! "Hugs"

  9. Wow. That's a lot to handle, for you and your dad. Technology is amazing . . . thank God . . . so let's just assume this will all be handled, and he will enjoy many healthy and happy years to come. 2016 is going to be amazing . . . just keep putting it out there to will it to happen. Because the alternative sucks. But I'll be lifting you both up in prayers and good thoughts. Virtual hugs.

  10. I'm so sorry. I ugly cried for a brief moment reading this. Saying a little prayer for your dad.