Cancer Strikes

A while ago, my father had a bad fall in his garage. He went to pick something up from the ground, and lost his balance and toppled. My father is a big man. 6′ and a good 250. And yes, he was a linebacker in high school. In trying to break his fall he dislocated his shoulder, cut his arm, and bashed his head. Cat scans and x-rays later, his shoulder was set, his head cleaned up, and his arm bandaged. It was more of a terrible scrap, so it couldn’t be stitched. He healed for the most part. Had to have some physical therapy for his shoulder. His arm healed for the most part.

When his arm healed over, it had a bit of a bump. It looked like scar tissue. But then the bump grew. It was almost like the cut underneath was infected, so he played with it, but there was nothing in it. So he left it alone. The bump became larger and larger, and eventually, a middle sort of pitted and scabbed over. It was the size of a half dollar. A circle of scar tissue with a scab in the middle. He finally came over and had me take a good look at it. I told him to make a dermatology appointment immediately. My thought was a condition I heard of in which the body’s skin cells sort of just keep going and keep making scar tissue, even when it’s healed. Like I said, it was about a half dollar in diameter and a good half inch high.

Unlike any time before, my dad actually took my advice. He went to the doctor yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon we were in our kid pool, and my dad came ambling over from his backyard. He sat down and explained that he probably had cancer.

Skin cancer. Probably carcinoma but the doctor isn’t sure if it’s carcinoma or melanoma. It has invaded all layers of skin. They took a biopsy, (they also removed another portion on his arm) and sent it for testing. We’ll know more after the tests come back in two weeks. That portion of his arm will have to be removed surgically, but before they do it, they want to know the kind of cancer they’re looking at. Then they’ll find out the stage, and do tests to see if it’s metastasized.

My mom has dealt with skin cancer for years. But with her, it has a particular look to it, so she knows immediately what it is, and it is promptly removed. That’s it. It doesn’t permeate her skin, and there are no other symptoms or treatments. With my dad, though? It might be bad. There are cancers that attack sores and injuries that aren’t healing properly, and that’s what they think we’re dealing with here.

And so, we wait.

My mother is throwing me for a loop though. She actually said to my dad that he was in denial. His reply was, how can he be in denial when they’re not even sure what exactly he has yet? And then she said, “it’s a good thing you didn’t get into that pool with that cancer.” Like what? He’s going to spread it like the plague or something? I think she’s just reacting, because my mother is much more intelligent than that and has dealt with cancer in many forms with many relatives including her parents – not to mention her own. So, I haven’t talked to her about it yet. I’m waiting for her to calm down a bit, so I don’t have to deal with her saying something stupid. Because she’ll blame him in some way. She always does. It’s how they operate.

And so we wait for the tests. We wait to see what we’re dealing with. And then we’ll wait to see how much of his arm they take (because Poe will probably have to take over physical work on both houses for him.) We’ll see what he’s left with. We’ll see how far it has spread. We’ll figure out what’s next.

We’ve come a long way, my dad and me. We haven’t really gotten along for a lot of reasons I’ve never and will never mention on my blog. But over the years that we’ve lived next door we’ve gotten closer. He’s not close to his sons, or his other grandchildren, so he’s incredibly close with the boys. He’s not a very friendly man, in that he doesn’t do anything to expand the relationships he’s got – mom’s the social director of the family. Which means, when he wants/needs to talk to someone he comes to me. The very fact that he searched us out to tell me to my face and not hiding behind my mother, and then just talking to us about it… We’ve come a long long way.

So, we wait. And again, our decision to stay here and help them until they’re gone is validated. I’m needed here. And I thank God that my husband gets that – not only gets that but participates.