I’m still here.
carry on…
i guess this is me…
Me, photo taken by Zach a few weeks ago, during a much warmer weekend.
P.S. The City Museum in Raleigh is not worth the $5 it costs to enter. It is one room only half full of an exhibit, which mainly consists of bad copies of photos pertaining to the evolution of media in the Raleigh area. I had no idea that this was the case when I decided to go there. I was documenting a museum exhibit in preparation for an assignment in my history class. My professor required photographic evidence of our presence at the museum we chose to document an exhibit at.
make a wish…
forever…
My dad was admitted to the hospital tonight until they can set up hospice. I knew this was coming. But now it’s real. We’ve turned a corner that we won’t be coming back from. He can barely speak or move. I’m sure some of it is the cancer and some of it is the morphine.
I went home to Chicago right before Christmas. My dad had spent three weeks in the hospital undergoing radiation. We had a nice visit. I smuggled him snacks from the vending machines and made sure he had enough Lipton tea for the rest of his stay and I tried to make him laugh as much as possible. I hoped the radiation would make a dent in his quality of life, but it didn’t. After he went through chemo I had no illusions about where this was going, but there is that tiny part of you that wants more. Now, now I just don’t want him to suffer anymore.
After radiation, he was discharged on, Christmas Eve. I talked to him when he got home and one last time since, about two weeks ago. He’s just had such a hard time talking, mostly slurring. Our conversation on Christmas Eve didn’t go very well. He was so upset, broken, tired, and sad. He isn’t a man of many emotional words. But when I saw this post on BoingBoing tonight I clicked over to Lisa’s blog. I read through it and found a post titled “Alone.” Not in so many words, my dad told me the same thing the night he was discharged. I wish I could do more for him but sometimes it just isn’t possible. All I can do is love him.
If you get a chance check out Lisa’s blog. It touched my heart, it gave me a little more insight into my dad.
Hug your loved ones tight.
broke down…
we could rescue oursleves…
What I did this week.
During the Spring I sewed over 200 feet of bunting for my wonderful friend’s wedding. I ended up burning my arm really bad, hastily ironing. Since I finished that project I haven’t really sewn anything. Anyway, a friend of ours is moving and I made her a bag for a going away present, and I made another one for an already far away friend. I forgot how easy it is to get lost in a project. I love it. And it’s even better when you can give them away to people you like.
two more days…
retreat…
I cannot come up with a better angle to come at this story.
The facts:
My dad has metastatic carcinoma (cancer), technically from an unknown origin.
He receives his healthcare through the Veterans Administration.
From the time he was told in the emergency department at his local VA Hospital till they actually started “treating” the cancer was five and a half months.
He is in a constant state of pain.
He is six feet and one inches tall, and weighs 134 pounds.
He is terminal.
Cancer is going to kill him.
I am angry. I am mostly angry that it took the VA so long to “treat” him. I don’t think that time frame is a normal protocol. I am also angry at America for not caring more about these types of situations. For the last several weeks all I have heard about is gun control, from people who don’t really know what they are talking about. During this time my dad was in the hospital enduring daily radiation treatments in an attempt to shrink the tumors causing his spine to fracture. His own primary care doctor that works in that facility didn’t come once to see him. Maybe if all the news outlets stood outside of the VA hospitals or outside of Secretary Shinseki’s office the rest of our country would care.
He was drafted in 1968. He didn’t volunteer. He served honorably. If we treat people like my dad as though they are subhuman why would we treat anyone else any better? To make things better we have to start somewhere, but we also can’t stop talking about it 2 weeks later.
