Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Cancer Sucks - Especially when it is your 12 year old daughter

August 18, 2011…..August 18, 2011 the worst day of my life. The day that began like any other day ended in such heartbreak it continuously loops in my memory over and over again. Like a dark plague of hurt that has no earthly cure. Up until that day I could not comprehend how anybody can think of suicide, chemical dependency, or depression as a way out of a bad situation. I could not comprehend how ones faith can be tested to actually want to make a deal with the devil if it meant you can erase that one awful day. All these thoughts and emotions ran through my head at such a fast and exasperated pace to what I can only describe as an emotional explosion of volatile hatred, remorse, and incomprehensible anger. August 18, 2011, was the day I was told my 12 year-old daughter has cancer. Yes cancer. The big “C” and up until that day was a distance regularity I heard often but held no impact in my life. After all, I never thought it would happen to my family. Safe in our own little bubble of reality I created. This was such a fallacy and a naive disposition as a father. I remember the doctor explaining to my daughter her illness and remember both my wife and I were crying uncontrollably. It was the first time my daughter seen me cry. I was no longer that loving but stern father. When she saw this never before seen reaction is when she began to cry. At that point I felt my legs giving out as I was on the verge of collapsing. I hung on to a hook on the wall praying inside wanting to die than to see my own kid go through this. From that point to what seemed to be an eternity which in reality was about three days was a carousel in my head of emotional rage. I never began to question as hard as I did my faith and purpose. Constant prayer took place as I quickly learned that is all I had left. In hindsight, prayer is actually what I had all along but did not utilize. My prayers were somewhat juvenile to what I think any father in my position would pray. Looking back and to this day I still pray the same options. Imagine that, me providing God options. I provided God several options if it was his will. The first option is to not let it be cancer but a simple oversight on the doctor’s part for a more common, less life threatening disease that was misdiagnosed. The second option is to give me the cancer and pain or better yet just take me now if that means sparing my precious daughter the pain and exposure to this disease. I remember driving from the hospital to my home alone and praying for God to just take me out of this world now any means he chooses in order to spare my daughter. Well, that didn’t work. My next option I offered was to allow her to go through the treatment pain free and provide me all the pain to bear. That had seemed somewhat manageable as my daughter tolerated the pain and sickness well. However, that was not God’s will. His will is what most fathers want. His will was simply for one of his children to speak with him and have a relationship with him on regular bases with a true and genuine relationship no matter of the circumstances. It is hard to imagine having and holding onto faith when you cannot begin to understand what plan God can have on a 12 year old girl getting sick. Just didn’t make sense. At one point it seemed the more I prayed, the worst the prognosis. This was making me angrier in my pursuit to take matters in my own hand. As my daughter went through her first round of chemotherapy, it ended up a rough night. She had her port placed the same day and she got sick that night. I remember waking up the next morning by the doctors (not sure exactly what day) explaining to me she needs a blood transfusion. My mind was shattering. Having absolutely no control and relying on doctors that looked like they just graduated high school was a strong reality. Eventually my daughter made it home to recover from her treatment. This provided us time as a family to bond even closer. My wife and I slept in my daughter’s room since she was diagnosed and through her treatment. I remember every morning waking up in pain due to the futon but was happy as my daughter was not in any pain. After the first week of the first round of chemotherapy we returned to the hospital for her second dose of the first round. Sounds kind of complicated….. When we showed up at the oncologist clinic, my heart broke in a totally different way. I found myself in a large room with many families and their children waiting for treatment. Like a herd of cattle. It is sad when you hear of a friend or distant relative diagnosed with cancer. When it happens to your own child - it brings you to your knees. Sitting in a room full of children with this horrible disease was more than I could handle. That night my daughter ran a fever from her treatment and we had to take her to the emergency room where the analogy of the herd of cattle took on an entire new meaning. That trip was an additional two day stay at the hospital. By this time, my body and mind felt like it aged about 10 years. I remember finding difficulties to make sense in my sentences. We wanted to sleep in the hospital room with my daughter and room was tight. Sometimes I was lucky and slept on a recliner as my wife slept on a small love seat. Several nights I slept on the hospital floor near my daughter’s bed. The best part of the hospital visit is seeing the hospital in our rearview mirror. Don’t get me wrong, the doctors and staff were absolutely the best people I met, but I prefer not to be there and so does my daughter. I am a creature of habit and wake up every morning by 5:00 a.m. and workout in my basement. For six months straight every morning I cried while working out. I cried so hard to a point where I had to stop what I was doing. I also rarely saw a St. Jude commercial as I worked out. For some reason, I began to see a commercial every morning. I got to a point I was crying for common commercials as well. I was also crying on the way home from work every day. Could be brought on from a certain song, thoughts, or people I saw walking. Pretty tough huh? I think I made up for 20 years of not shedding any tears. My insensitive disposition quickly took a 180 degree turn to an overly sensitive guy. As the treatment continued, I began a men’s group meeting weekly with guys from my church. It was newly created by two very good men. The timing appeared to present itself at the right moment with the right amount of folks. I remember that first day I just laid it all on them. Got sort of quiet as I am not sure they were prepared for this. They helped me through a lot of this as the weeks progressed. One known side effect of chemotherapy is hair loss. As a father with two beautiful daughters I rarely appreciated their hair as countless hours are spent brushing, braiding, and washing seemed to be such a waste of time and resources. So my daughter losing her hair didn’t seem like such a huge impact to me until the day I woke up and kissed my daughter goodbye as I left to work. Her hair was thinning by now but she had hair. My wife some time that afternoon informed me my daughter took a shower and most of her hair was gone. Again, it was hard for me to comprehend until I got home. When I saw my daughter 98% bald with a few strands here and there, I could not hold it in. I stayed strong in front of her and made it to my basement to let it all out. Fortunately, she looked really cute bald. She had a perfect round head…..She pulled it off well. I slowly began to drink more and slept more than I have in the past. I wanted to crawl into a hole like a weak individual and not face this reality. In front of people I put on a good persona. But I felt convicted every time at church. It seemed my pastor had the messages carefully created to address my issues. He would even peer through all the folks and lock eyes to mine. Some may call this a coincidence, but my interpretation is the Lord was using him to get through to me and it slowly worked. I learned a few things at this point. I learned no matter how much I prepare, it doesn’t matter. It was going to throw me such a large blow I mentally could not handle. I always prided myself on being such a tough guy. I was nothing. I was not tough. I was scared. I did not even have faith although I went to church and once in a while prayed when things were not going my way. That is when I really learned a few things. I learned I cannot ask my Lord for help only when I need him and only in the areas I want him to help but keep Him out of other areas of my life. I had to submit and allow him in all areas of my life. When I submitted, it seemed I finally was listening to my Father. After all, I was asking Him to listen to me. I began to notice a change in my daughter’s prognosis. Things began to improve, her health stayed strong, and she was gaining weight. It is now April and my daughter has a full head of hair. After eight months of four rounds of chemotherapy and 14 rounds of radiation, my daughter’s stage two Hodgkin’s Lymphoma is in remission. She got to ring the bell symbolizing end of treatment! I cannot even begin to describe my thankfulness of the family members who helped me through this, friends at my work who helped me through this and especially my church providing me a strong foundation to pull through this. I do not know what the future holds for me and my family. I know one thing; they are the most important part of my life and will always place them first. I also see no sense of getting angry these days. Life is short, sweet, and precious. There will always be scenarios and people that can make life unpleasant. These days I spend more time with the family and in the Word. I spend less time worrying about materialistic things and status quo. I want to help others and get involved in my community. I want both my daughters to be an inspiration to others – Most of all I want to make a difference and an impact while I am on this earth.