Thursday, May 20, 2010
You may recall that Papa, aka chauffeur, aka caregiver, aka awesome guy was diagnosed with esophageal cancer last week. The day before yesterday he went in to have his esophagus scraped.
The procedure is as simple as it is gruesome: Surgeons remove the affected portions of the lining in his esophagus with the hope of removing all the cancerous tissue. Since they caught it so early, his prognosis is good, and while they wont know for a while (more of that wait and see business) they’ve a good idea that his cancer had not yet reached the muscle layer which means his chances for a cure are high.
He came home this afternoon in good spirits, looking as good as ever, armed with a plethora of painkiller cocktails (lidocaine mixed with milk of magnesia for example) and grumbling that he has to puree his food for a while. (This is a guy who likes to eat, so that’s the worst of it for him at this point.) :)
As I listened to him rattle off the list of prescriptions he was given for after care, it dawned on me that I had at least one valid, valuable reason for my situation: I’ve already been where he’s at.
Papa is not the sort of fellow to explore his condition, nor is he likely to puzzle out the “doctor-speak” of the medication inserts, but I am. Armed with the education I now have from dealing with my own medications, hospitalization, and what-not, I can pave the way for what he’ll face and best of all, explain things to him in a language he can grasp, without being overwhelmed or intimidated. Plus I can help him navigate the pitfalls of the so-called health care as his treatment continues.
It’s easy for me to wonder and lament at why all this has to happen to me, but I now have at least one answer that serves as all the reason I need. He doesn’t have to go it alone. Right now, there are no unknowns for him because I’ve already been there, and with that understanding, I can easily accept my situation as a way to ease his.
Looking at it that way, we’re both damned lucky.
Welcome home, Papa. :)