Blog Post: (from a previous blog I had during Papa’s illness)

It was the kind of call I wasn’t planning on making.  Ever.

But yesterday, in the matter of hours, 3 different sources had all encouraged me that this was the right call to make.  Bolstered by their recommendations, today I took a deep breath and dialed the #.

A complete stranger picks up and says something like:  ”Hello, thank you for calling [blah, blah, blah].  How can I help you?”

Really?  No automated message?  No buttons to push to connect me to the correct department?  No annoying hold music?  A real, live person, actually picked up the phone to talk with me right away?!  

How could SHE help ME?  I wasn’t sure how best to articulate what I was looking for….

What exactly was I looking for?

I didn’t have any prior experience with this sort of thing.  I was going in blind.

Me:  ”Uh, yes, I’m calling on behalf of my father.  He was recently diagnosed with brain cancer.  He is to start treatment next week, but we’d like to get a second opinion.”

Her:  ”Oh, I’m so sorry to hear your father has cancer.  I’d be glad to be a cancer advocate for your family.”

Suddenly, I’m blinking back tears I hadn’t expected.  Wow, she cares; we have an advocate!

She continues to talk:  ”We treat patients within a 15 mile radius of our center; where does your dad live?”

I explain he lives further than that, but inquire if it makes a difference if he stays somewhere closer than his home, like my home.  But she dosen’t really seem to be listening, just continues on with her questions.

“What insurance does your father have?”

I tell her I think it’s Medicare, she goes on to inform me that their doctors only take a limited number of Medicare patients at a time…. right now they wouldn’t be able to see my dad for another 8 weeks.

8 WEEKS?!  That definitely won’t work.  He needs treatment NOW!  I ask more questions to get further clarity, but quickly realize this stranger on the other end of the line is simply reading off a script.  As my questions don’t fit into her script, she simply gives round-about scripted answers that don’t really answer anything at all.

Heart sinking, I realize I’ve met a dead end.  This stranger’s well-meaning “concern” and claims of “advocacy,” which had initially seemed so encouraging, were merely a part of her tidy little script.

The conversation ends with her giving me a couple #’s of possible organizations/associations that might be better able to assist us.

I hang up feeling defeated and annoyed.  Truth is, I didn’t like her script.  Truth is, I had a script of my own and she wasn’t following it.

My script of the conversation had started out the same, albeit with a dash more genuineness in the concern department.  And in the scheduling department?  Well, she was supposed to pull some strings and fit us in, oh…. tomorrow, or by the latest in a few days.  She was supposed to be encouraging and offer us some sort of tangible hope.  Instead I got the door….. and a couple phone #’s.

How the heck did we get to this point?  This past month and a half has been HARD:

What looked to be a stroke for Papa, turned out to be a malignant brain tumor.

Communication got very difficult (and creative) as Papa’s speech and comprehension were significantly affected.

Surgery was performed to remove the tumor.  It proved successful, but left Papa in a weakend and discouraged state.

Oxygen, a blood transfusion, and a feeding tube were all required post-surgery.  Communication became even more difficult.

A long hospital stay was followed by weeks in a rehab facility.

And now radiation and chemo are looming ahead of us with complications all their own; leaving us unsure of which is worse, treatment or no treatment.

And none of this is following the script I would have written for it.  Yes, Papa is improving, he is getting his strength back little by little and his speech is becoming easier to understand with each passing therapy session.  I’m grateful for this, I’m grateful to have Papa still with us, for him to have endured all he has these past weeks.  But at the end of the day, he’s got brain cancer and a pretty grim diagnosis…. no known cure, likely tumor recurrence, two years at most for life expectancy….. not the makings of a very optimistic script.  Not a whole lotta room in the margins for hope.

“But God.”

That’s what our pastor spoke from the pulpit last Sunday.  There are many verses in Scripture that include the phrase, “But, God…”  As I looked up verses online with this phrase, I found a quote on one such site,

‘But, God.’ What follows this significant transition is intended to challenge our faith and change our life.  When He is brought into the picture, God makes all the difference.  (Moments With The Book)

“My flesh and my heart faileth:  but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”  (Psalm 73:26)

“The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the Word of our God stands forever.”  (Isaiah 40:8)

“But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.”  (I Cor. 1:27)

Not that knowing this, knowing Him, suddenly makes it all easy, but knowing He is, and will be, faithful, does give hope when the situation, by itself, seems hopeless.

“We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed….  Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes on not what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”  (II Cor. 4:8-9, 16-18)

As I recalled and wrote out the verse above, I had a nagging feeling I’d already written it in a post before.  And then I remembered; a post in which I mentioned someone battling cancer and the faith and dignity displayed by the wife and daughters of this man.  Little did I know I’d be facing a similar situation a little less than a year later.  Again, not the script I would have imagined for my dad or our family.

But God.

Need to keep reminding myself of that, need to keep remembering He is the source of our hope.

“Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you.  I do not give as the world gives.  Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”  (John 14:27)

We love you, Papa!  We are in this with you – with hope & prayers to see God work through this in mighty ways!

My Reflections:

I go to rehab and talk to Papa about treatment.  He’s discouraged and uncertain about what to do.  He wants to know what I think, what Nana thinks, what my brother, Mark, thinks.

I let him know I’d like him to pursue treatment.  Because we don’t want him to give up.  We want him around as long as possible.  And if there’s a chance….

We also talk about getting a 2nd opinion.  I let him know I’ve run into a dead end with one cancer center, but there’s someone else who might be able to help.  A friend of a friend is a respected oncologist.  He knows Papa and could possibly give added insight to what’s best;  give us his honest, unbiased opinion.  Another opinion can’t be a bad thing.

Papa agrees, although a bit half-heartedly.  But I’ll take it.

I let Papa know I’ll work on getting him an appointment.

And when I get home I do just that.