Going Public
Ok I've basically been keeping this to myself except for a few close friends and my boss at work but I feel that I need to get some of this shit out so I'm going public. My Grandfather (my mom's dad) was diagnosed with Lung Cancer last week. We originally thought it might be a lymph infection because he had a feaver but it turned out that his lymph nodes were inflamed because they were working overtime doing what they're there to do which is to cleanse the body of any impurities. The feavers he was having were due to pneumonia that was caused by a build up of bacteria on his lung behind the tumor. He had been having bronchitis-like symptoms and had been trying to "tough it out" because he's a stubborn ass but Grandma finally dragged him to the doctor and...well...here we are.
The tumor was originally thought to be relatively small but once they got him in the hospital and gave him a CAT scan they discovered the tumor started somewhere in his neck, went down past his lung, and curved around in his abdomen somewhere around his stomache. In other words, it's fucking huge. I'm assuming it started on his lung and grew to mythic proportions because no one has been able to accurately explain to me how it is lung cancer when it starts in his neck and goes all the way down to his stomache area. The good news is it's keeping to itself and not spreading at all so it's going to be relatively easy to treat. The bad news is it's pressing on his esophagus and making it extremely difficult for him to breathe. So because of that and the enormous size of it they have fast-tracked his treatment schedule.
Yesterday he started his Radiation treatments and they put in a shunt for his Chemo. They had originally speculated that they would be able to remove the tumor surgically before they started Radiation and Chemo but that was before they did that fateful CAT scan and discovered just how big the fucker is. Their first priority now is to shrink it down to a more manageable size so that it isn't encroaching on his breathing passages before they remove it. So they started Radiation first. He was scheduled to start Chemo today. I don't know how that went, I haven't called the hospital to find out. But he seemed to do ok with the Radiation. He was really sleepy because of some drug they have him on. And he kinda freaked me out because while I was there he seemed to forget where he was and why he was there and Grandma had to remind him. That scared me badly. But all in all, apart from being dreadfully sick, he seems ok. He's ready to fight it, which is a wonderful thing. We weren't sure he would be ready to fight because of the way he has been lately. Ever since he retired he's been rather depressed and right before Grandma took him to the doctor this time he had been smoking a whole helluva lot and saying "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die." So when I went to the hospital the first time to visit him and my uncle told me my Grandfather had told the cancer doctor (Dr. Dewalt) to do whatever it takes to kill the tumor I almost cried from relief. I am so glad he's gonna fight it.
Other random information: The first thing they did was put him on heavy antibiotics to kill the pneumonia and they were giving him breathing treatments and steroids as well to speed the healing as much as possible since he was on the cancer fast track as it were. Well, when they started giving him the steroids it sorta threw him into Diabedes (sp?) -like symptoms and they had to start giving him insulin injections along with the steroid injections. It was a nightmare. They give him one medication for one thing and then they have to give him another medication for whatever the first medication did to him. At one point, they were even giving him medication to cure hiccups. No I am not kidding, they actually have a pill to cure hiccups. My thought is, by the time you take the pill, the water you drink to take the pill will kill the hiccups so what's the point of the pill?!? I don't even know how many meds he's on or what they are or what they are doing for him. It's scary and ridiculous at the same damn time.
I've been completely emotionally dead lately. I am acting like my father - the only emotion I show is anger. I get angry at everything and everyone. I only cried for, like, 30 seconds when my mom called me at work to tell me it was lung cancer and I haven't cried since. But I have felt like I had to kill things. The night before last, when I came back from the hospital, I told Steve I needed to kill things so he put on Medal of Honor: Frontline and I killen Nazis for a few hours. I'm just so...angry. It's weird...when my mom had her heart thing I cried all over people for days on end. I cried myself to sleep most nights. With this, I'm angry and I'm not sleeping well and every time I eat I feel nauseous. And I got cold sores in the corners of my mouth which happens all the time when I get stressed. And the really sick thing is...I've been smoking like a feind. My Grandfather is suffering from LUNG CANCER, and I've stepped up my SMOKING. It's sick. It's twisted. But it's my crutch. One of these days it's gonna hit me and I'm gonna cry I know it. But I don't know when. I started my period today which means I've been PMSing and yet...no tears. And PMS is good for making me cry at stupid shit.
Other random information: My uncle Duane is a trained EMT and he's afraid Grandpa might be developing congestive heart failure because Grandpa's legs are dreadfully swollen. Which, congestive heart failure is a high risk among cancer patients so I'm all freaked about that. And my uncles are being complete and utter assholes (which is to be expected) throughout this whole thing. All they can do is complain. And then the other night Duane sat there and started talking about how he wishes he could take some of the pain on himself from Grampa and trying to get me to say that I would too. And I really would if I could. But the way he was saying it and talking about it on and on it was almost like he was trying to get brownie points with Grampa. Like he wanted to be the favorite son or some bullshit. It was all I could do not to say to him "Oh shut the fuck up you goddamn faker! You aren't helping!" And Dusty isn't much better. The day I found out they were giving Grampa insulin for his Diabedic symptoms fucking Dusty decided he was gonna bring Grampa a fucking milkshake from McDonalds. Let's give the Diabedic cancer patient some fucking sugar! Fucking ass. NO ONE is being practical in this situation except perhaps my mother. And all the boys are fucking bitching that Gramma isn't asking enough questions or the right questions and I'm like "Give her a fucking break, her husband is sick in the hospital with CANCER don't you think she has enough on her plate right fucking now?!?" I mean, she went home to get a shower and relax for a minute the first night I was at the hospital and Duane got Michelle (his wife) to call her at home after she'd been gone for about an hour to MAKE SURE SHE DIDN'T FALL ASLEEP because she wasn't back at the hospital. Meanwhile, my angry ass is sitting there thinking to myself "So what if she fell asleep, let her FUCKING SLEEP!" I mean honestly, what the hell is WRONG with that man?!? I say, let the Doctors do their fucking job, let Gramma get some fucking rest, and CALM THE FUCK DOWN! This is going to be a long process so calm the fuck down a little bit. We'll get through it. Fuckheads.
The tumor was originally thought to be relatively small but once they got him in the hospital and gave him a CAT scan they discovered the tumor started somewhere in his neck, went down past his lung, and curved around in his abdomen somewhere around his stomache. In other words, it's fucking huge. I'm assuming it started on his lung and grew to mythic proportions because no one has been able to accurately explain to me how it is lung cancer when it starts in his neck and goes all the way down to his stomache area. The good news is it's keeping to itself and not spreading at all so it's going to be relatively easy to treat. The bad news is it's pressing on his esophagus and making it extremely difficult for him to breathe. So because of that and the enormous size of it they have fast-tracked his treatment schedule.
Yesterday he started his Radiation treatments and they put in a shunt for his Chemo. They had originally speculated that they would be able to remove the tumor surgically before they started Radiation and Chemo but that was before they did that fateful CAT scan and discovered just how big the fucker is. Their first priority now is to shrink it down to a more manageable size so that it isn't encroaching on his breathing passages before they remove it. So they started Radiation first. He was scheduled to start Chemo today. I don't know how that went, I haven't called the hospital to find out. But he seemed to do ok with the Radiation. He was really sleepy because of some drug they have him on. And he kinda freaked me out because while I was there he seemed to forget where he was and why he was there and Grandma had to remind him. That scared me badly. But all in all, apart from being dreadfully sick, he seems ok. He's ready to fight it, which is a wonderful thing. We weren't sure he would be ready to fight because of the way he has been lately. Ever since he retired he's been rather depressed and right before Grandma took him to the doctor this time he had been smoking a whole helluva lot and saying "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die." So when I went to the hospital the first time to visit him and my uncle told me my Grandfather had told the cancer doctor (Dr. Dewalt) to do whatever it takes to kill the tumor I almost cried from relief. I am so glad he's gonna fight it.
Other random information: The first thing they did was put him on heavy antibiotics to kill the pneumonia and they were giving him breathing treatments and steroids as well to speed the healing as much as possible since he was on the cancer fast track as it were. Well, when they started giving him the steroids it sorta threw him into Diabedes (sp?) -like symptoms and they had to start giving him insulin injections along with the steroid injections. It was a nightmare. They give him one medication for one thing and then they have to give him another medication for whatever the first medication did to him. At one point, they were even giving him medication to cure hiccups. No I am not kidding, they actually have a pill to cure hiccups. My thought is, by the time you take the pill, the water you drink to take the pill will kill the hiccups so what's the point of the pill?!? I don't even know how many meds he's on or what they are or what they are doing for him. It's scary and ridiculous at the same damn time.
I've been completely emotionally dead lately. I am acting like my father - the only emotion I show is anger. I get angry at everything and everyone. I only cried for, like, 30 seconds when my mom called me at work to tell me it was lung cancer and I haven't cried since. But I have felt like I had to kill things. The night before last, when I came back from the hospital, I told Steve I needed to kill things so he put on Medal of Honor: Frontline and I killen Nazis for a few hours. I'm just so...angry. It's weird...when my mom had her heart thing I cried all over people for days on end. I cried myself to sleep most nights. With this, I'm angry and I'm not sleeping well and every time I eat I feel nauseous. And I got cold sores in the corners of my mouth which happens all the time when I get stressed. And the really sick thing is...I've been smoking like a feind. My Grandfather is suffering from LUNG CANCER, and I've stepped up my SMOKING. It's sick. It's twisted. But it's my crutch. One of these days it's gonna hit me and I'm gonna cry I know it. But I don't know when. I started my period today which means I've been PMSing and yet...no tears. And PMS is good for making me cry at stupid shit.
Other random information: My uncle Duane is a trained EMT and he's afraid Grandpa might be developing congestive heart failure because Grandpa's legs are dreadfully swollen. Which, congestive heart failure is a high risk among cancer patients so I'm all freaked about that. And my uncles are being complete and utter assholes (which is to be expected) throughout this whole thing. All they can do is complain. And then the other night Duane sat there and started talking about how he wishes he could take some of the pain on himself from Grampa and trying to get me to say that I would too. And I really would if I could. But the way he was saying it and talking about it on and on it was almost like he was trying to get brownie points with Grampa. Like he wanted to be the favorite son or some bullshit. It was all I could do not to say to him "Oh shut the fuck up you goddamn faker! You aren't helping!" And Dusty isn't much better. The day I found out they were giving Grampa insulin for his Diabedic symptoms fucking Dusty decided he was gonna bring Grampa a fucking milkshake from McDonalds. Let's give the Diabedic cancer patient some fucking sugar! Fucking ass. NO ONE is being practical in this situation except perhaps my mother. And all the boys are fucking bitching that Gramma isn't asking enough questions or the right questions and I'm like "Give her a fucking break, her husband is sick in the hospital with CANCER don't you think she has enough on her plate right fucking now?!?" I mean, she went home to get a shower and relax for a minute the first night I was at the hospital and Duane got Michelle (his wife) to call her at home after she'd been gone for about an hour to MAKE SURE SHE DIDN'T FALL ASLEEP because she wasn't back at the hospital. Meanwhile, my angry ass is sitting there thinking to myself "So what if she fell asleep, let her FUCKING SLEEP!" I mean honestly, what the hell is WRONG with that man?!? I say, let the Doctors do their fucking job, let Gramma get some fucking rest, and CALM THE FUCK DOWN! This is going to be a long process so calm the fuck down a little bit. We'll get through it. Fuckheads.
posted by Jenn at 20:01
