Daddy's Treatment
I've debated about whether or not to blog about my Dad. In some ways I felt strange about publicly sharing a family trial, but then I realized that this blog is my journal and an event that has effected my family so dramatically is important for me to document. I know my siblings have expressed similar feelings, so I hope no one will be offended that I have chosen to record.
On Friday (November 19) my father was diagnosed with CLL: Chronic Lymphocitic Leukemia. It was a shock to my system. This is the man who has never taken a sick day from work or school since he was 8 years old! The same man who was never very sympathetic with illness because he had never experienced it. It just didn't make sense that this incredible human being who is constantly serving God and others should suddenly be hit by such a blow. That day Burke was in Parowan helping on the farm and I ached to be with him. I wanted to drive up North as fast as our little Toyota Corolla could take us and be with my family. However, when talking to my Father on the phone he amazed me with his optimism without a glimmer of fear or worry in his voice. "How could I appreciate a life of perfect health if I never had an illness to deal with?" he asked. It made it hard to freak out when he was so incredibly calm.
He started a portion of the Chemotherapy the first week of December and continued to be Mr. Positive even when we learned his cancer is extremely aggressive and his Doctor said he had never seen a cancer patient with a white blood cell count so high and still standing. Dad just pumped his fist and joked, "How high can I go?" and then went for a game of racquetball the next day.
After the Mo-Tab Christmas concert he was scheduled for three days of the intense Chemo. Being sick as I was, I wasn't able to go support him during treatments the first two days. On Tuesday (Dec 21) I knelt in prayer and plead that I could get better so I could enjoy the holidays with my family, but mostly so I could spend time with my Daddy. The next morning I woke up and the horrid pregnancy nausea that has plagued me since October was miraculously gone. I was wary at first, but soon I found three months of throwing up had made me very hungry! I knew my prayer had been answered and with gratitude in my heart I was able to drive over to the cancer center in Logan with Burke and my brother and sister to join our parents.
The treatments take place in a rotunda shaped room with 10-12 lazy boy arm chairs in a semi-circle, each patient hooked up to an IV drip of medication. I hadn't expected to see all the other patients, pale, but smiling, as we set up a card table in front of Dad's chair and spent the next 3 hours playing games, eating Panda Express takeout and visiting. We even had a good laugh when my extremely queezy husband looked over and saw that one patient's IV bag was full of dark red blood. Burke's face paled and he had to rest his head on my shoulder to keep from swooning - much to the enjoyment of my family. :)
Compared to the other patients, Dad looked so young and healthy. It was so strange for me to see my heroic man of steel looking so pale and worn. Chelsea took this picture of him with the "Courage Bear" Aunt Maryanne sent for Dad to hold during his treatments. I love the way that he looks, still full of discourse and life during such an exhausting process.
I am happy to report that after a blood transfusion the next day, Dad was able to bounce back and enjoy the time together over Christmas. That's not to say he didn't have pain or discomfort, but I will forever be impressed with the cheerful way he handled it and his courage in the face of such a tremendous trial. On Christmas Eve and Christmas night after the kids went to bed we were able to enjoy long talks with all of the adults about the past year; about the things we have learned and the trials we are experiencing, about accepting Dad's illness and praying for miracles, about life and death and the eternities that lie ahead. It was very healing to be able to talk openly about our thoughts and feelings and to lend support to one another. Ultimately, I have come to see that David Bush is just the man for this kind of trial and God knew very well that he, my sweet mother, and our family, could handle it. I believe in miracles and I have felt a calm assurance that everything is going to turn out just fine. Even if that means we lose Daddy, I take great comfort knowing the good life he has led and most importantly that our family has been sealed in a temple of God for all eternity. We will be together in this life and the life to come.
However...I believe in miracles! I look forward to watching my Daddy rock my babies in his arms and play them their individual lullabies on the piano. I look forward to listening to his wise counsel for years to come and being grateful for all of the extra time we have together. As Papa recently wrote on our family email:
On Friday (November 19) my father was diagnosed with CLL: Chronic Lymphocitic Leukemia. It was a shock to my system. This is the man who has never taken a sick day from work or school since he was 8 years old! The same man who was never very sympathetic with illness because he had never experienced it. It just didn't make sense that this incredible human being who is constantly serving God and others should suddenly be hit by such a blow. That day Burke was in Parowan helping on the farm and I ached to be with him. I wanted to drive up North as fast as our little Toyota Corolla could take us and be with my family. However, when talking to my Father on the phone he amazed me with his optimism without a glimmer of fear or worry in his voice. "How could I appreciate a life of perfect health if I never had an illness to deal with?" he asked. It made it hard to freak out when he was so incredibly calm.
He started a portion of the Chemotherapy the first week of December and continued to be Mr. Positive even when we learned his cancer is extremely aggressive and his Doctor said he had never seen a cancer patient with a white blood cell count so high and still standing. Dad just pumped his fist and joked, "How high can I go?" and then went for a game of racquetball the next day.
After the Mo-Tab Christmas concert he was scheduled for three days of the intense Chemo. Being sick as I was, I wasn't able to go support him during treatments the first two days. On Tuesday (Dec 21) I knelt in prayer and plead that I could get better so I could enjoy the holidays with my family, but mostly so I could spend time with my Daddy. The next morning I woke up and the horrid pregnancy nausea that has plagued me since October was miraculously gone. I was wary at first, but soon I found three months of throwing up had made me very hungry! I knew my prayer had been answered and with gratitude in my heart I was able to drive over to the cancer center in Logan with Burke and my brother and sister to join our parents.
The treatments take place in a rotunda shaped room with 10-12 lazy boy arm chairs in a semi-circle, each patient hooked up to an IV drip of medication. I hadn't expected to see all the other patients, pale, but smiling, as we set up a card table in front of Dad's chair and spent the next 3 hours playing games, eating Panda Express takeout and visiting. We even had a good laugh when my extremely queezy husband looked over and saw that one patient's IV bag was full of dark red blood. Burke's face paled and he had to rest his head on my shoulder to keep from swooning - much to the enjoyment of my family. :)
Compared to the other patients, Dad looked so young and healthy. It was so strange for me to see my heroic man of steel looking so pale and worn. Chelsea took this picture of him with the "Courage Bear" Aunt Maryanne sent for Dad to hold during his treatments. I love the way that he looks, still full of discourse and life during such an exhausting process.
I am happy to report that after a blood transfusion the next day, Dad was able to bounce back and enjoy the time together over Christmas. That's not to say he didn't have pain or discomfort, but I will forever be impressed with the cheerful way he handled it and his courage in the face of such a tremendous trial. On Christmas Eve and Christmas night after the kids went to bed we were able to enjoy long talks with all of the adults about the past year; about the things we have learned and the trials we are experiencing, about accepting Dad's illness and praying for miracles, about life and death and the eternities that lie ahead. It was very healing to be able to talk openly about our thoughts and feelings and to lend support to one another. Ultimately, I have come to see that David Bush is just the man for this kind of trial and God knew very well that he, my sweet mother, and our family, could handle it. I believe in miracles and I have felt a calm assurance that everything is going to turn out just fine. Even if that means we lose Daddy, I take great comfort knowing the good life he has led and most importantly that our family has been sealed in a temple of God for all eternity. We will be together in this life and the life to come.
However...I believe in miracles! I look forward to watching my Daddy rock my babies in his arms and play them their individual lullabies on the piano. I look forward to listening to his wise counsel for years to come and being grateful for all of the extra time we have together. As Papa recently wrote on our family email:
"Death in inevitable, time is relative. What matters most is how we are living TODAY."
Comments
-Steph
You will get nothing but love and support on here. Thanks for your courage for sharing your emotions with your blog friends.