Texts: (between a friend & me)

Friend: Hi Kari, I was praying for you this morning for strength & comfort.  Hope you are doing ok.  You’ve just been on my mind.  Just wanted to let you know 🙂

Me:  Thanks – was needing that today!

Friend:  Then I will keep it up. 🙂

 

Blog Post: (from previous blog written during Papa’s illness)

Quality vs. Quantity

Papa’s speech has regressed this past week.  He’s also gotten a lot weaker.  Last night he fell when he was making his way to the bathroom with his walker.  Luckily he didn’t get hurt besides a small scrape on his head.  Luckily a neighbor was just a phone call away so Nana could get help with picking him back up.

A CT scan done a few days ago showed that there are no major concerns with Papa’s brain – no bleeding, no new tumor growth.  All looks “good;” as good as a brain can look with a cavity where a tumor used to be.

Papa’s oncologists remain in the loop even though he has currently decided to forgo chemo & radiation treatments.  The radiation oncologist believes Papa’s speech regression could be caused by swelling in the brain, so earlier this week, he increased Papa’s steroid dose to address this.  As Papa grew weaker throughout the week though, the steroid dose was decreased once again.  Apparently while the steroid helps decrease swelling, it can also contribute to muscle weakness.  So it’s yet another balancing act of the meds.  And strength trumps speech for the time being.

We saw the neurosurgeon two days ago for a check-up.  I’m amazed by this doctor’s care and concern, taking plenty of time to answer our questions and explain things regarding Papa’s tumor and condition.  Not at all cold and impersonal like I’d expect a brain surgeon to be.  He told us with the type of tumor Papa had, an anaplastic astrocytoma, they always grow back and most always in the same location (Papa’s was in the area of the brain that controls his speech, obviously).  He was much more optimistic than the chemo doctor had been, encouraging Papa to go ahead with treatment, that the chemo, as far as chemo drugs go, is very tolerable and that with treatment, Papa could have a few more years added to his life.  He likened Papa’s situation to a boxing match, saying he’d gotten through round one and he should definitely go ahead for round two…. that if this was round eleven, well maybe it would be time to throw in the towel, but since the fight has just begun, why not keep fighting for a few more rounds?  With letting us know his strong recommendation is for Papa to start at least radiation, and also chemo if Papa would be game, the neurosurgeon also let us know that he would be happy with and support whatever Papa decides, because ultimately it is Papa’s decision.  He let us know that he wanted to keep seeing Papa for check-ups, regardless of what Papa decides concerning treatment.

As I’ve talked with Papa about this decision, he has expressed several things:

• Sure, he’d like to see his grandkids grow up and be a part of Nana’s, my brother’s and my life (and our respective families’).
• He doesn’t want to be a burden to Nana, or anyone else, even though he knows we’re more than willing to help out.
• If he were younger, it would be different, he’d have more to live for.
• He’s had a good life.
• He already has a bad heart, bad kidneys, decreasing eyesight……  And now he has brain cancer, can’t talk right, get around by himself, take care of hiimself……… When is enough, enough?

When is enough, enough?????

As the doctors do all they can to treat this cancer and extend Papa’s life, we are faced with this question.  And Papa must ask himself, and we must ask ourselves, what kind of life are we adding to Papa’s years?  Is it just about the quantity of years he lives or the life he has in these remaining years?  Selfishly, we who love him want to hold onto Papa as long as we can.  I don’t think I’ll ever really be ready to say goodbye, ready to let him go.  I want Papa here as long as possible.  But I want Dad here as long as possible, not just in body, but in mind & spirit – in all that makes him him.

You’ve heard it said a million times, in one form or another, I’m sure:  “It’s the quality, not the quantity that counts.”  As Steve Jobs put it, “Quality is more important than quantity.  One home run is much better than two doubles.”  And in my heart of heart, that’s what I really want.  A life for Papa that finishes in the victory of a home run.

I know Papa doesn’t feel his quality of life is all that stupendous at the moment.  And when doctors optimistically tell him he might have the chance to extend his current state of affairs another 2 or 3 years, I get how that doesn’t offer much appeal from Papa’s perspective.  Currently, Papa’s ready to see this 9th inning through, with no intention of going into overtime.  Death is not something he’s looking to run from at all costs because he knows there’s something far better on the other side of all this.

“And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me that you may also be where I am.”  – John 14:3

“Where oh death is your victory, where oh death is your sting?” – I Cor 15:55

I’m a jumble of emotions over all of this, and thankful that the decision with Papa’s treatment rests on his shoulders, not mine.  And I do support him, whatever he decides.