Saturday, August 18, 2012

How quickly it all changes

Two weeks ago he was out running 5 miles a day, playing golf, riding his bike. Two weeks ago he was picking on me for going over to his place every day - sometimes several times a day - to visit. Two weeks ago he was telling me to stop stealing his chocolate with that mock-stern voice.

Now, he is laying in a hospital bed, the future uncertain and frightening.

My father-in-law has been a father to me for the last 19 years. I have never called him by his name... he has always been "Dad." I rarely ever even call him an in-law... at least, not until someone gives me a funny look wondering who I'm talking about. He is, quite honestly, a much better dad than my own. I always tell my husband that the only reason I married him was for his parents. While that is obviously not the only reason, I am quite serious that I loved his parents from the first time I met them, and that love has only grown stronger over the years.

Anyway, two weeks ago he started having back pain. It got more and more serious and intense as the days went on, but the change between Tuesday and Wednesday of this week seemed pretty drastic. On Thursday, he went in for tests. Bad news. There is cancer. But, the extent and severity wasn't known yet. We'd have to wait until Monday or Tuesday. They sent him home. He seemed so fragile yesterday... not the strong, healthy man I had been play fighting with two weeks ago.

Then this afternoon we hear from the doctor with more bad news - there's a large mass on his kidney, and he shouldn't be at home. He needs to be in the hospital for pain management and general care. We had to call an ambulance as he is unable to move at all, and a car ride at this point wouldn't have been good for him. As they were getting ready to move him, he playfully aimed a fist at my nose - so, I keep holding onto that, praying/dreaming/wishing it is a good sign that he'll pull through.

Once he got to the hospital, they ran a few tests. More bad news. His kidneys have failed. They loaded him back into an ambulance, transporting him to Fargo. And this is where it all left off. So now I can't sleep, afraid I'm going to miss a call.

I love you, Dad... and I'm praying for you.

1 comment:

  1. That's tough, Brandi. I'm sorry to hear about your dad. I'll keep him in prayer on this end.