Peace, Love, Patience and Fluidity with the Universe - Part III

Now I have been home for 2 weeks. The flight back on Air Canada was terrible (Tara was right, I should have co-signed her angry letter to the company!), but it passed quickly. I arrived in Vancouver with barely enough time to get through the million-people customs line, and sprint across the airport to the ‘Local’ departures area (stopping only to buy a watch so I could stop looking for airport clocks!). I made the connecting flight easily, and arrived in Edmonton only 25 minutes delayed, which I hear is pretty good these days, for Canadian flights anyway. My “little” brother (who has grown into a pretty exceptional man, and is now married with 3 incredible little ones and a wonderful wife) picked me up at the airport, fidgety and anxious to get back home. We waited awkwardly for my bags to come off the plane, and it seemed to take hours, though my 2 were in the first 10 that slid around. He didn’t handle the news of dad’s illness well, or easily. He and my dad had become best friends in the past few years, doing everything together from quadding and camping to working and renovating, and I can’t even imagine the pain that he was feeling at watching our father get sicker and sicker, but it showed on his face.

The 2 hour drive back in excruciatingly slow seconds which we passed making strange small talk, mini-updates about how things had been at home, how dad looked, how mom was doing, but nothing definite or deep. A quick phone call from mom had us turned around on a 15-minute detour picking up a couple of “ice-caps” from the Ft. Saskatchewan Timmy’s, because they decided they might both enjoy one, and Boyle doesn’t have anything like it. We arrived in Boyle, and of course for me, I felt like I had never left.

Gave Mom a hug when I walked up the steps, she was of course outside the second she heard the truck, and cried when I hugged her, and told me that she was so glad I was home. She said that dad had waited up for our arrival, so I went into the house to say hello. Greg zipped off home as he had to work the next day. I went in the house prepared for the worst when I saw dad, but I was surprised, and not as upset as I thought I might be. He was yellow, and Mom had warned me about the jaundice, so it wasn’t surprising, though I remember thinking “wow, that’s an interesting color, he looks a bit like he should be in some strange movie”! He was thinner, but his voice was normal, he boomed out a hello to me, and stood up to greet me. His eyes, though the yellow color of jaundice, had some spark in them, and he stood up to give me a hug when I came in. After that he was quiet, but that’s nothing new for my dad, I’ve always thought him quiet, at least around me. He was a bit chatty, he stayed up for a couple of hours after my arrival home, watching TV, and making light conversation. He walked around on his own, grabbed a drink or something to eat when he wanted it, and was a *LOT* better than I had ever dared to hope.

For the next 3 or 4 days, he was alright, kinda the same. We talked about his funerary plans, what I would have to help my mom with, what I might have to take care of if she couldn’t handle it. We ate together, watched TV together, hung out together. I was glad to be home, and I found that none of the anger or anxiety that had bugged me for the week previous had come with me once my plane landed in Edmonton.

Within the first week, I started to see the decline. First, about 3 days after arriving, he got the hiccups… they stayed for about 5 or 6 days straight, without ANY kind of a break. He even hiccupped in his sleep!! (but at least he could mostly sleep through them). The doctor said that it was because the cancer was forcing pressure onto his diaphragm, resulting in hiccups. His pain medication was “upped”, changing to Oxycontin because the other one wasn’t working. His sleep medication changed to Clanazopam (whatever the spelling), as he hadn’t been sleeping well in the past couple of days. Then of course his eating slowed down. Suddenly, he really wasn’t much interested in eating, where before he at least tried to eat a little. His referral was in at the Cross Cancer Institute, but when I called them, they told me it would be a week until his referral was reviewed after being triaged, and it would be between 2 and 6 weeks before he would see an oncologist. When she told me, I remember saying “Are you kidding!? Do you mean to say that it might be 2 months before he even sees a specialist!!? The Dr. only gave him 3-6 months! (There was that helpful old anger back again). She tried her best to explain their triage system, which I supposed made sense, and I took a deep breath (or ten). Okay. Not. Helpful. Next.

I drove to the CCI to get some information about the cancer, as we didn’t really know much, but there wasn’t much they could give me that would be as useful as seeing the Dr., so it turned out to be a bit of a waste. Dad’s best friend Brian visited for a day and a half on his way home to his family in Legal from Syncrude; He helped cut some baseboards with the meiter saw (which I now know how to use!) and sat on the balcony visiting with dad, who was almost himself for the day!! I stayed up talking with Brian about how difficult it had been, he had to explain to everyone at work that needed to be told, and had the constant reminder of dad’s absence since they used to work side by side. It was good to have him visit, even for the short while.