My Dad is Dying

My dad is dying of Acute Myelongenous Leukemia. We just found out two days ago and really got the full diagnosis yesterday. The family sat down to discuss the possible treatment options and it has been decided that he will start chemotherapy, tomorrow. This will be a very aggressive course of chemo actually; partly because things are really bad and partly because his heart is in terrible condition. I may as well add some details here, my dad is 74 years old and is grossly overweight; that along with the fact that he has had no exercise forever, virtually and we know his health was already precarious. The leukemia, however, came right out of left field. He had blood tests in October and his white cell count was great 4.5, two days ago it had shot up to 80. We actually have no idea how long this has been coming at him.

But that is just the medical side; I realize that there are a whole bunch of things that go with this not the least of which is making sense of his life for me and its impact on me. That may sound pretty self-centered but the reality is that my dad and I never really seemed to get along and in many ways I now see that he allowed me to use him as my enemy almost as a spur to me. I don’t for a second think it started out that way but over the years a number of the things I accomplished had a slightly added flavour of ‘in your face dad’. Not in a rebellious way so much more like ‘see I did get my degree’, ‘see I did become a recognized martial artist’, ‘see I am a professional writer’. I have to recognize that there were a few times on the way to here that it was that attitude that got me through some of the tough times.

So what was my dad like? Some times I am not actually sure of the answer to that question. When I was a child he was the authority that I hardly ever saw. He was in university or working most of the time and with a schedule like that he also spent some time trying to get some sleep. It never really occurred to me that most people’s parents weren’t doing that, heck mom was doing much the same thing – I was in university working full time and going to school at the age of 22 and couldn’t understand why my friends thought it was a lot.

I never really understood why most of my parent’s friends were black and there were no black kids at my school. Of course in the early sixties there were very few black families anywhere in Canada but I didn’t know that. I never really understood that they had left virtually all the friends and family so that my brothers and sisters and I could have a better life. I did understand that when a person decided they were going to do something they did not let anything stand in their way. That was a very important lesson that has kept me going at other times as well.

There is a lot more but I am not ready with it yet, but I will revisit this in the months to come. They say he can have a good quality of life for at least another two years and as long as he is not in pain I say lets go for the best treatment we can find but we are setting up the personal directive because he does not want to be a long term care patient if it takes heroic measures to save him; I am okay with that it is the same choice I would have made. Time alone will tell.