Tomorrow morning, I am going to the surgery center of Huntsville for a ‘permanent’ tube to be placed in one of my ears. It should be very quick and routine. As I prepare for anything health-related like this, I tend to think of other times in my life that I have faced unknowns or fears with my health and how I have walked through them. I can say that throughout any and all of them, my parents have been by my side. My dad, specifically, happened to be right there with me at one of my most nerve-wracking appointments this past summer, and went above and beyond researching and actively working to help me in my situation. Now, we are all watching as he walks through some of the scariest unknowns that you can ever face. And he is doing it with such grace.
I will never forget the day after we had our initial scare with my dad’s health. The report and initial images had the gastroenterologist very concerned. However, because cancer is just sinister and sneaky, the day after his tests were run, we got word that there was no ‘trace’ of cancer in his blood work, and there was no definite evidence. We rejoiced, pre-emptively. We all believed what we had heard that day was the ‘best outcome.’ We did not have any concept of what was yet to come, nor did we have any emotional energy left to give.
That evening, my parents pulled up into their driveway, and we had already driven from Nashville and were sitting in their kitchen along with the rest of our immediate family. When they came inside, we all embraced, and tried to go about our evening as normally as we could. We knew there were still unknowns and more testing ahead, but we savored the “good” news we had gotten that day.
A few minutes after they got there, I went over to give my dad a hug. He looked at me and said, “You know I’m never going to leave you.”
My only response was to continue hugging him. It was one of those moments where words would not suffice, and I could only think of the treasure that he is to me. The truth in those words haven’t changed despite our current circumstances, nor will they ever lose their power.
That moment impacted me more than I realized then, and now that he has been fighting this battle for some time, I realize how significant it was.
I have no doubt that he has shared moments like this with each of our family members, and that his impact is powerful beyond measure as he sets his intentions on loving those around him and spreading hope to everyone that he encounters.
Fast forward to a few weeks later. He has gotten an endoscopic ultrasound, a diagnosis, and we are sitting in one of his initial meetings with his oncologist. The incisions from the ultrasound procedure were still very recent, and were causing him some pain. As his doctor inspected them, he sat up with such dignity and strength. If you know my dad, you know that there is a certain determined look that he has when he is facing something head on- a final sprint in a race, or lifting something really heavy, for instance. This is the look that came over him, and it was perfectly fitting in that moment. His chin was up. He was not going to be defeated. His pain and the unknowns weighing heavy on him would not bring him down.
We are now gearing up to face another time of waiting and expectancy as he finishes up his last round of chemo this week. A week from this Thursday, on February 8th, he will get a PET and CT scans done at UAB, and then he will find out results and next steps on the 12th.
I will be posting more updates and details on his caring bridge site as those dates get closer.
Please pray that tomorrow, Wednesday and Thursday would be his last days of chemo therapy, and that he would be given the okay to move forward with surgery after that. Thank you for joining with us in prayer, in the power of the Spirit, and in the belief that He is good all the time.
Leave A Reply