Pamela

My dad recently died after a short 8 months of fighting lung cancer. Unfortunately, things spiralled down quickly for Dad from the diagnosis to the end. I wish with all my heart there had been happy times along the way, mini-celebrations, big celebrations, anything that would have put a smile on his face. In January all he wanted was one more fishing trip, one more day on the lake enjoying the sun on his face. He didn't even get that. If you have happy events, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy. Every minute you can push aside the disease and live like it doesn't exist, do it. The essence of life is in those happy, normal, hopeful events. I hope for many "normal" and happy days for your mom, you and your family! Pam

I'm so sorry. It is surreal to contemplate the impending death of someone you love. You are right to focus on Scott right now. Follow your heart. Please let us know how things go. Pam

Kitty, I'm sorry. You're going through a very painful time right now, but I know your love for your dad will comfort you. Please know my thoughts are with you. Pam

Kitty, I can only say that my heart goes out to you. Only 3 weeks ago I sat beside my father's bed trying to come to terms with what was happening to him. It was scary, confusing, frustrating, painful, overwhelming. Just keep doing what you're doing. Love is powerful. It will get you through this. Pam

Ginny, I just returned from my father's funeral and discovered that Earl died the same day as Dad. I'm so sorry. I know you must be experiencing every emotion there is and that you are completely exhausted by now. Take care of Ginny . . . and let other take care of you, too. As I know you've experienced this past week, your love rises above the pain. Pam

I received the phone call I didn't want this morning at 6:20. Dad died peacefully at home at about 6:15. I knew it was coming, and I thought I was prepared, but I wasn't. It hurts so bad! I'm packing now and trying to make all the arrangements to get to Texas today. Can't concentrate, can't remember details like my cell phone number, can't figure out what to take. I'm trying to come through the fog, but it hurts so bad. Add to this that we received a call last night that our 29-year-old nephew was diagnosed with testicular cancer yesterday afternoon. He's in surgery in Nashville this morning. I HATE CANCER. Thank you all for supporting me through this horror. I'm praying for all of you. Pam

Mandy, I know you must be worried sick right now. It's tough having your world rocked like this. What tests were done? Did they do a CT scan, blood work or x-rays? Why did they think it was kidney stones if the tests were inconclusive? Sounds strange to me. Do you feel comfortable talking to the doctors yourself and asking them to explain it to you? Let us know what you find out, okay? Pam

Cat, I have been coming back to this thread all day, thinking about it and analyzing how I see it. It's been a very good experience, so thanks. There are so many things that are beyond our ability to comprehend that we are developing ideas and conclusions based on woefully inadequate understanding. That's what makes it so frustrating, and that's why there are so many different ideas and beliefs. I guess ultimately I believe it comes down to your expectations of life, God, other people. Even though on some level I think I know what I would do if I were God, I have learned that it just doesn't happen that way. I spent years very angry with God for not behaving the way I thought He should. Then I realized how ridiculous it was for me to expect God to conform to my image of him. He is what He is (and in whatever form that may be) regardless of what I think. So I no longer expect God to always reward good and punish evil. (I do not even expect God to define good and evil the way I do.) I do not expect that good behavior or goodness of heart will earn a person immunity from calamity. I do not believe God is truly omnipotent. Free will by definition precludes true omnipotence because God allows us to make decisions over which He has no control. In fact, evil's very existence defies a God of purity and love. I no longer try to understand God. I accept that people do evil things and God does not stop them. I accept that too often the innocent suffer and the guilty prosper. I accept that "virtue is its own reward" because sometimes there is no other reward. This is reality and I cannot change it or understand it. So I accept it. On the other hand, I know deep down inside myself that virtue and goodness are worthy objectives, whether or not there are obvious rewards in this lifetime. Even if there were no after-life (and I believe there is), virtue and goodness would still be worth pursuing with passion. I am grateful, however, that God does not immediately obliterate people who do evil acts because I would have been vaporized long ago. I know there is a difference between hurting someone with your words and torturing a child, but there are so many degrees of evil between the two that it might be more difficult than we think to decide at what point a person crosses the line from being a normal, flawed person to becoming an "evil" person. So for the time being, I operate on the blind faith that God exists in some form and that all of this makes sense in the big picture. I try not to harbor a false belief that I know how the world should operate and what God should do. I focus instead on consistently re-evaluating my own values, attitudes and behaviors to determine if I am doing "good" with my life or causing harm to those around me. And I try not to expect it to earn me anything except peace and the satisfaction of spiritual growth. Cat, I love your heart and your passion. You have made a positive difference in my life, and I've never even met you. Thanks. Pam

It is tough to even think about this question in the face of pain and loss. I wonder sometimes if maybe we don't understand because we see such a small piece of the whole picture. My daughter is in training to work with abused children who are in the court system. She was told that many children will lie to protect abusive parents because they don't want to be taken away from their parents. Now, you and I know that those children would be happier, healthier, have more opportunities, etc., if they were taken from junkie parents who burn them with cigarettes and sell them for drug money. But the kids cling to what they know out of fear of the unknown. Now this is tricky, and I don't want to ruffle feathers. I wonder if what we experience in this lifetime is perhaps the worst possible existence in eternity. Perhaps when it's over we will question why we fought so hard to stay. Maybe the ones who have gone ahead of us are being rewarded by a shortened life. Their passing may be joyous for them . . . even though it is horribly painful for us. Just pondering. Pam

I'll say prayers for you and your family. Good luck tomorrow! Pam

I am so sorry. Please stay in touch in the next months as you adjust to your life without him. We want to support you and your family in any way we can. Pam

Joanne, I'm so sorry. The stress, worry and fear can sure grind you down. As for the arguing, I know that must be distressing. Right now I'm sure all of you feel like your world has spun out of control. The level of stress may not get better for awhile, but you will become stronger and better able to handle it as you go along -- especially if you keep corresponding with people here. It helps a whole bunch! The "shadow" could be an infection. At least that's what it was for my Dad. The doctor told us that an infection can hide behind the tumor. If your mother's on antibiotics, the shadow may well go away soon. As you know, your mother just doesn't feel good. Her body is going through a lot of trauma right now, and she probably feels the worst she ever has in her life. She may also be experiencing the horrible fatigue described by others here. If so, that could be a reason why she's withdrawn; no energy to even think about doing anything. That could certainly be depressing. As she regains strength, she may become more responsive to you and start having good days again. There is something else that might be a factor, although not very likely. Since she was on steroids and had a chest infection while taking other medications, she could be experiencing a type of delirium called hypoactive delirium. Most delirium is characterized by agitation, but there is a type that is characterized by lack of movement and withdrawal. Does your mother sometimes say things that don't make sense or appear not to hear what someone says to her? Does she withdraw to the point that she seems to be in her own world and not aware of others in the room? Just a few thoughts. This is scary, but absolutely not hopeless. Try to create good days for yourself. Enjoy the little things that make life special. Your 2-year-old is a great source for that! When you're in a better place, it may help your mom and sister to be more at peace, too. Hang in there. You're doing fine. Please let us know how things go. Pam

David had an impact on everyone in this group. Years from now I hope his boys will come here and read their father's words. During the scariest, most painful time of his life, he was actively supporting and helping others. He comforted, teased, shared his experiences and insight, and gave others an opportunity to laugh with him. Please know that many hearts are heavy today because a light named David has gone out. Pam

Has anyone heard from Ben? Pam

Peggy, I'll add my thanks for sharing such detailed information. I learned things that actually answered some questions I've had. Tell your husband HAPPY BIRTHDAY . . . AND MANY MORE!!!!! Pam

I was referred to a website describing the dying process. It has been very helpful for me, so I wanted to post it. I hope this doesn't offend anyone. http://crossingthecreek.com/guts.htm#INTRODUCTION Pam

Don, It hurts to read what you're going through, and I wish I could help. I have three wonderful brothers who are fully involved in the decisions regarding Dad, and I am so very grateful that I don't have to do it alone. It must have been a very scary responsibility for you by yourself. My brothers and I were talking yesterday about what you're saying . . . regrets for mistakes made, wishing we could get a "do over" on some of the things that have happened to Dad. One of my brothers is agonizing over what he "should have done" that he THINKS might have made things better for Dad. My input for your consideration is the same thing I told my brothers. We know what happened on this path. We don't know what would have happened on the "what-if" paths. It might have been better; it might have been worse. We didn't know when we made the decisions, and we still don't know today, what would have happened if we had done any of a hundred different things differently. One thing I do know. Each and every decision was made with careful consideration and deep love. The same is true for you. You were not careless with your Mom. You were not neglectful of your Mom. You cared for her with everything you had, with love, devotion, and commitment. No one -- even you -- can ask for more than that. Think of it this way. Even the oncologists don't know how each patient will respond to radiation, chemotherapy or even pain medication. They guess. They don't know how the disease will progress for any individual. They guess. Sure, they're educated guesses, but they're still just guesses. In other words, the people who do this for a living, the ones with the most information on hand and the most experience with the disease are making educated guesses. If they aren't absolutely certain about what's going to happen with treatment, then go easy on yourself for the educated guesses you made IN LOVE for your Mom's treatment. Try to put the cancer and suffering you both endured behind you. Forget the "what-ifs." Remember the love. Remember the way you come through for her when she needed you. Remember that you were holding her when she left this world. Remember that SHE LOVED YOU. I most likely will never meet you, Don, but I will always admire and respect you for the way you cared for your mother. So, please go on and have the happy, fulfilled life your mother wanted for you. And know that when you laugh or smile or feel joy again that your mother will be right there with you. Pam

I am in Texas with my Dad this weekend, and I know in my heart it may be the last time I see him alive. I finally located a Internet connection today so I could check on this board, and discovered three heartbreaking losses. I cried when I read about Don's mother, only to read further and read about TBone and then Rob. By the time I finished reading those, I was broken with grief for people I've never met and families I know are hurting today. Dad is lying in the bed next to me right now. When he wakes up, he yells out in pain because his back hurts so bad. We've had to double his pain medication in the last 24 hours. He has been in the same position now for about 18 hours because when we try to reposition him, as gently as we can, he begs us not to touch him. My Dad has been in my life all my life and I cannot imagine that day when he will be gone. I am looking at him sleeping now with tears running down my face. I don't want to say good-bye when I have to return to Missouri tomorrow. I don't want him to hang around in pain, either. But it doesn't really matter what I want. I cannot keep him no matter how hard I try. Peggy, you wanted to know why you should come to this board. Please let me be one of the reasons. I need the support and encouragement of this group of people as I face this horrible time. And when I have come through it, I very much want to help someone else along the path. It is a sad, sad day. But I am grateful to have this place to come. Well, Dad is moaning in pain again. I must go. Pam

Don, It breaks my heart to read your agony. I identify with the sense of futility and helplessness you feel. Anger may well be appropriate right now, but please don't be angry at yourself. Hit a wall, take eggs and throw them at something, go out by yourself and scream til you can't scream anymore. But be good to Don. This horrible disease is like a monster gobbling up people we love while we try desperately to fight it off. You fight with everything you've got for comfort, pain-free moments, words of love between you, time, time, please God just a little more time. But the monster grabs her and takes off anyway. Don -- One plea from my heart. Please don't leave this group yet. You have an education now from going through this and others coming after us need what you can offer. Please try to stay connected so that others can build on your knowledge. God bless you and hold you in the palm of His hands as you grieve your beloved mother. Pam

Don, So good to have you back. It sounds like things have been rough for you and your mom. Wish I could say something or do something to make it better. Please know that we care about you and your mom. If we can provide any comfort, let us know. Pam

Joni, We'll miss you, but this trip may be just what Alex needs -- your total, rested, undistracted attention. I'll be interested to hear what he asks you or tells you in your quiet times together on this trip. Take care of Joni and Alex, and we'll look forward to hearing when you get back. Pam

Tess, My heart aches for you. I will hold you in my prayers as you walk Rob to the door of heaven and say good-bye for now. Pam

As I've posted before, my Dad had a SEVERE reaction to Decadron that left him incapacitated (no muscle tone whatsoever). I think what bothers me the most is that no one ever told him or us about the possible side effects. There was no warning! Dad was taking 16 mg/day for 3 months. Because he had brain mets, the oncologists blamed all his symptoms on the brain lesions. It was horrifying to watch what a mean-spirited person he became. He yelled and cussed and threw things. He couldn't sleep more than 2-3 hours at night. His blood sugar stayed between 300 and 340 all the time, so his diet was restricted. That ticked him off because he was very hungry all the time, and mostly for sweets. We thought it might be the Decadron, but the oncologists kept telling us it was the brain cancer. Finally we insisted that they do an MRI, and sure enough the brain lesions had shrunk considerably and were NOT the problem. They quickly ramped Dad down off Decadron completely and all his "symptoms" disappeared, except by then he had steroid myopathy and the muscle tone was gone. We were told that a healthy young person who had suffered that extent of muscle damage would take 6 months of rehab to recover. My dad is 77 and weakened by cancer. Now Dad is lying near death. He likely won't live more than a few more weeks at best. Decadron stole his chance to take chemotherapy. He was just too weakened by the Decadron to risk it. Decadron stole his mobility. Decadron stole his peace of mind. Decadron stole his dream of one last fishing trip. In effect, the drug that was supposed to help my Dad stay alive actually shortened his life. The doctors should tell you what to expect, what to look for. They shouldn't let anyone walk blind into this. They should start with the lowest dose and work up, not start with the highest dose and then go down. Sorry for the long message, but I'm very emotional right now. I'm losing my Dad and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I want to scream and cry and fight. I see the cancer as an alien monster that has invaded Dad, and I want to rip it out and stomp it into the ground. Crazy, huh? I just can't stand watching this happen to him. Thanks for letting me post this. It helps to put it in words. Pam

Becky, I know I can't really understand because I don't have cancer. But I know that I look for your posts because you find humor in the strangest places! It is a gift to be able to lift the spirits of others going through this hellish nightmare. Even if it's a momentary lightheartedness or a laugh, it matters. It matters a lot. So, good-by to the old Becky, whoever she was. Sure, that Becky could work, but the new Becky helps people who are hurting, and does it with STYLE. And she teaches us how to find moments each day to laugh and enjoy being alive. Thanks. Pam

Don -- I haven't seen anything from you recently. Maybe I missed something. You doing okay? What's new with your mother? Pam