My Dad's operation back on the thirteenth was successful beyond both our hopes and fears at the same time. While the removed part of the colon seems to have been clean, there was metastasis located on some of the intestine, which was taken out.
The severity (which hit everyone pretty hard, my Mom the hardest) was lessened a bit after others, including a consultant at Dana Farber, looked at the pathology reports and gave more optomistic readings than the doctor did just hours out of the OR.
However, further treatment was irrefutable, and a four month chemo program was started just this past Tuesday, less than a month after he was on the table for a third time in under a year. Not to mention he was home less than five days later.
Mom keeps saying it's because his surgery wasn't as severe as mine, but make no mistake, My Dad is fucking tough.
Best wishes to you, Dad, if you happen to be checking this blog out to see if you still can classify me as the family liberal.
Likewise to Mom. If there is a God, I hope he realizes that you have now been the best possible nurse for me, Dad, Kristen--everyone in the family except yourself. That's a debt we can never repay, so he damn well better.
2 comments:
Glad to hear all this positive news about your Dad. That generation is a flock of tough old birds. I only hope we can all survive as well, and as long.
-Daley
Feel for you. Going through something similar with my Dad (who's been in chemo for several months but still old-geezerish, to my relief).
best,
eileen
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