In 2012 my dad died of oesophageal cancer, I was 22.
In August 2011 when I found out my dad had been diagnosed with stage 3 oesophageal cancer I was still a student nurse and I knew you could get cancer- but had never really heard of cancer of the oesophagus. You hear of breast, brain, lung cancer as these can often have high mortality rates and bring in the charity money, I assumed as I had never really heard of 'this' cancer surely it was one of the "good" cancers which can be treatable and for a brief nieve 30 minutes I thought this was the case.
A quick Google search told me it wasn't so. I found it death rates were high and the treatment was a highly complicated surgical procedure. My dad went through this procedure to have his oesophagus removed which included a stay in ITU and also a course of chemotherapy, both of which he sailed through effortlessly and for a period of 4 months we thought he'd beaten it.
It wasn't until he started getting lethargic and so short of breath he couldn't talk in full sentences with me over the phone I knew something was up. To this day now almost two years on I still feel angry at the GP for dismissing these symptoms with my dad as a 'chest infection' and my all time favourite 'an emotional response to the cancer' even me as then a newly qualified nurse knew this was not something to ignore. After I convinced my mum to take him to ED a quick CT scan told us the liver had spread to the liver & bones and was so far gone nothing more could be done- 2 weeks later he died.
The day he died was one of the worst days of my life- I'd only made it back from nottingham to bristol a couple of hours earlier. I remember sitting with him whilst he slept wishing I'd taken a book or my phone as I never really knew how boring sitting with someone when they're dying could be- yes, boring! I treasured my last few hours with him, but quite frankly all I was doing was watching him sleep. Occasionally he woke and I could see how disappointed he was to still be alive and in pain.
It wasn't the slow gradual decline I'd seen in many patients when they die before- he was still concious up until his last few minutes. All of a sudden the nurses were setting up the syringe driver and as they did so I just saw him slip away, suddenly is the only word I can use to describe. It wasn't necessarily the death I wanted for my dad- it happened quickly, maybe even in some pain I don't know but I take solace that it's the death that he wanted. I then helped the nurse perform last offices. I did this for one reason- I wanted it to be done RIGHT. I knew me and only me could give the best care to my dad at what I deemed acceptable and I knew he'd have wanted me to do it- after all this was the man who supported me in my nursing training.
Two years on I'm at a good place in myself and this hasn't been an easy journey. You think when someone is grieving they need friends, support and counselling. I handled it by simply giving myself time, not talking and keeping busy. Probably the complete opposite advice they give- but it worked, it let me figure things out, moments for reflection but not lingering on what happened and now I do feel comfortable sharing my story and can accept it's ok to feel overwhelming grief.
I don't brood over my dad as much but I certainly think of him daily. This weekend has been different a doctor at work off handedly was talking about a patient who had oesophageal cancer and said "They will probably need a DNAR". Fair enough, the patient was of a good age, lots of co-morbidities and had a terminal illness but it just hit me like a jolt and the memories of what we went through as a family have stayed with me for a few days now like it's fresh again.
So thats why I decided to write- to write down the memories I've been holding in and only shared with my other half and occasionally a friend or relative, this is a form of my therapy. I'm grateful for a lot of things. I'm grateful to have had a loving supportive father for 22 years of my life, something I know a lot of people miss out on in their lives. I'm grateful he got to meet the love of my life albeit for a brief few hours he got to meet him and I wish he could be with us now as we move house, build a family as I know he'd have a lot to say and want to help! I know how much he would have gotten on with him as well- they never got to talk about their shared love of beards, star trek next generation, star wars, computers and all things nerdy and I feel sad they would never get to have that as I knew they'd have been friends.
I'm also grateful FOR my boyfriend! We'd been dating for 5 months when my dad passed away, nobody wants to deal with a new girlfriend going through that- he even met my parents in the hospital. I was expecting him to run or 'keep his distance' and not go to the funeral with me, hold my hand and hold me through my darkest periods. I've never really thanked him for what he did but I don't know where I'd have been if he wasn't there.
Cancer is an awful bitch it's a soul sucking, family ruining bitch. It takes the young and the good and ravages through the body without any let up and I'm proud to have a dad that fought to the very end.
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