Today I had an appointment with a gastroenterologist to discuss scheduling a colonoscopy (oh the joys of turning 50!)
I shared my health anxieties with him and told him that a lot of it stems from my father passing away last year from Cholangiocarcinoma (aka bile duct cancer).
An otherwise healthy man in his early 70's was hit with a fairly rare cancer. So sudden and completely out of left field. He only lived six months after his first symptoms/diagnosis. John and I have talked at length about the suddenness of him getting ill and then passing away. John likened it to a shooting- so abrupt and so harsh (I honestly run out of words to describe it.)
The gastroenterologist acknowledged how tragic this was and as a follow up to my question about the role heredity might play with this cancer, he looked at me and said, "it's just bad luck."
BAD LUCK?
Bad luck is waiting in line at Dunkin to get a maple-frosted donut and the person in front of you buys the last one.
Bad luck is going to an appointment and the bridge you have to cross to get there goes up unscheduled.
Bad luck is a black cat crossing your path (allegedly).
In the 21st century, shouldn't we be able to take the "luck" part out of the cancer equation? I honestly am still blown away that there are cancers that are just not curable. We've come so far with treatments for certain cancers, yet not very far at all for others. I don't necessarily know that I can change that, but will try to raise awareness for this type of cancer in my own small way.
I still don't think I'm ready to write a full-blown post about my Dad, but here are a few things I can share that have been on my mind lately as memories surface-
- He was a mathematical/statistical guru. He loved numbers (evidenced by doing Cross Sums in the crossword puzzle magazines- the one puzzle that drives me crazy). He could sit for hours and look at horse racing or greyhound racing data, digest it, and put it into the formulas that he created. While he and I never talked in-depth about his hobby (as a teenager, I was pretty much dead set against taking an interest in anything my parents enjoyed...lol), I look back now and wish we had talked about it. I wish I could've had that window into his brain and perhaps some of it would've rubbed off on me!
- Related to above, he was a strategy guru. He loved chess. When I was in elementary school, he bought me a kids' book on chess and spent time teaching me. We'd play occasionally but this was another hobby that I never took to- my brain didn't work like his. Back in the 80's, he'd sign up to play chess by mail with an opponent from somewhere in the US. He'd have the chess board set up and the pieces in the places where he and his opponent had designated. Moves were made via mail- he'd send a postcard to his opponent with his next move and vice versa.
- I said above that as a teenager I was pretty much dead set against anything my parents wanted me to engage in. My Dad took me on my college visits, including Simmons College (now University) in Boston. At the time, undergrad was all female, but graduate was co-ed. He got his master's degree from Simmons in Library Science (a great story for a later post). I specifically remember being in an auditorium at Simmons with him sitting next to me and wanting me to like it. He never said that, but it was a feeling I got. Of course, because I was 17, the thought of all female was a no-go and I declined attending there. Fast forward almost 20 years and it all came full circle- I was going to be attending Simmons for my master's in Library Science. I was older and (somewhat) wiser and looked differently at following in his footsteps- I was proud to be doing so.
I always wanted built-ins in the living room- to showcase my plethora of books and also to share mementos and photos. Luckily I married a former contractor who made that dream come true. Throughout the process, I sent photos to my parents and my Dad would always marvel at how talented John is (while my Dad had many sterling qualities, he was not gifted in the building/fixing realm). He said to me a few times (even before he was sick)- I hope you have a shelf for me.
It's not perfect, but I think it sums up my Dad pretty well. An American Libraries magazine with his memorial notice, a horse racing book, a chess book, and two Saint books. A chess set. A greyhound racing memento I had given him. A photo of us from the last visit he made here at a hockey game (no surprise- another love of his). Lastly, a card he gave me probably 30+ years ago that I saved.
Back to the whole "bad luck" thing- I am still angry that my Dad, of all people, who was such a smart, funny, and loving man got the extremely short end of the cancer stick. It's been almost eleven months since his passing left a gigantic void in the lives of those who loved him. While it's still not easy at all, I find that smiles are starting to take the place of tears when I think about him.
