And Now...Hospice

When dad was released from Mayo Clinic in Phoenix, we had an idea as to what sort of things to expect.  An oral chemotherapy was ordered and sent to the house for dad to begin.  We looked through the documents that came with the medication.  We then had a doctor’s appointment with a local oncologist.  Between the two resources, we have decided the chemo will interfere too greatly with quality of life.  Therefore, he has chosen not to take any chemo.

There were two side effects listed as “most common” for patients using the chemo.  The first was dizziness and confusion.  That is a typical side effect for a lot of medications.  But, now that dad has experienced severe confusion in the past two months or so, he is very unwilling to have that happen again.  The second was an increased potential for blood clots.  His cancer already makes him susceptible to blood clots, but the chemo will almost guarantee it happening.  Strike two.  The final straw was the list of medications the chemo has a tendency to react adversely with.  Basically every medication he takes to manage his pain and all antibiotics. 

The cancer will eventually make him confused again.  His ammonia levels will at some point elevate and he’ll be confused about things again.  The progression of the cancer will also become more painful as it goes untreated.  So far, we’ve been successful in keeping his pain under control.  Despite the amount of narcotics he is taking, he is still maintaining a healthy appetite and is able to function independently.  He is very weak, but is able to take care of most of his needs on his own.  He doesn’t spend the whole day sleeping.  He’s alert and engaging with the whole family.  Based on those elements of quality being prominently intact, we feel we can keep him comfortable for a long time.

What hospice means is we are no longer going to treat his cancer.  We are putting the length of time he has in the hands of the greater power.  This past year has been full of ups and downs.  We’ve been excited and hopeful about things working out to assist dad in getting cancer-free.  Alas, to no avail.  Continuing to fight against the cancer will ultimately be futile and more than likely at the expense of quality time he wants with his family.  There is very little control we have in this situation and what we can control is our acceptance.  There’s grace in that.

His range of motion in his right arm is slowly gaining wider distances.  He works on little physical therapy exercises throughout the day to help built back his strength.  It has been fun for him to make progress and see it when he’s able to spend more time writing in his journal.  His ability to walk around is extremely limited.  There is high potential for fracture in his hips and thighs and he’s behaving accordingly.  He does enjoy (when his energy permits) scooting himself around in his wheel chair.  Yesterday, he chased Alex around the house and the sounds of screaming laughter filled my heart!  He is maximizing his experience as much as possible. 

The ward family here has been a supreme help.  We are receiving meals for dinner twice a week and that is so relieving.  Friends have listened to my dad’s request for live green houseplants and the house is slowly filling with life!  My good friend, Paul, was very clever and brought him a cyclamen plant.  I still giggle at the little label. 

If you would like to visit, please email me and we can set up a good time.  We are trying to keep the house as free as possible from germs, so only two people at a time please.  And…donate?