It was 19 years ago today that my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Today is a bizarre day for us. I find that as the years pass, the memory of this day doesn’t render itself avoidable, but I find strange comfort in it instead.
I remember this day all too well. I was almost six, but this day has been burned in my memory. When I was little, like many other girls my age, I was obsessed with The Little Mermaid. I had everything Ariel – toothbrush, sleeping bag, sleeping bag case, stuffed animals, Halloween costumes, you name it. I wanted to be a mermaid so bad. Some of you may remember Faerie Tale Theater, where actors recreated famous fables and such. It was on this night 19 years ago that Faerie Tale Theater was set to show their version of The Little Mermaid. I was so excited. My mother planted me on our sofa in my Little Mermaid nightgown, stuffed Flounder, and turned on the TV. I remember the show was not ten minutes in and my mother came in the family room and told me to change my clothes, that we had to take my father to the hospital. Of course you can imagine a five year old to be very confused my this, but I did what I was told.
When we arrived at the hospital, I waited in the ER waiting room. The nurses would not change the channel for me and I was forced to watch cowboy movies. To this day, I cannot watch a Western. I spent the night at a family friend’s house that was close to the hospital and the main thing I remember thinking all that night is that I missed real mermaids on TV.
While I was wallowing in my mermaid pity, it was becoming abundantly clear that my father was very sick. He had felt a lump in his abdomen the night before and at the almost angry encouragement of my mother, was now getting scans, X-rays, and a series of tests run. The doctors had two possible thoughts: Lymphoma or pancreatic cancer. Lymphoma would have been a blessing…if only that had been the case.
Over the next 28 days, my father carried on and finished up Spring term at OSU (Mathematics professor). He gave his last lecture to his students and my mother and I went to school with him that day. He told his students of his diagnosis (which had then been narrowed down to pancreatic cancer) and that we would possibly need some help with babysitting yours truly. My mother told me that every student came forward to help.
For those that are unfamiliar with pancreatic cancer, allow me break down a few statistics:
- In 2009, there were an estimated 42,470 new cases.
- In 2009, there were an estimated 35,240 deaths.
Do the math. That is a grim outlook..and the year my father was sick was 1991. The survival rate that year was that less than 1000 people would survive to see the next year, most of which never got that luxury. We didn’t. We had 28 days.
My father kept a journal while he was sick and over the course of the next month, I will share a bit of that with you. Today’s entry was rather “to the point” but a bit haunting (as you can imagine it to be). Needless to say, it reminded me of the type of man my father was:
“Went to ER – X-ray, blood normal. CAT scan revealed tumor. Doctor thought Lymphoma or pancreatic. Scared as hell…A and I stayed up talking.”
To the right of this page, you will notice a box labeled Pancreatic Cancer Action Network. I ask for you to please click on that today and support their cause, or choose a cause to support. Cancer in all shapes and forms is a burden and devastation in and of itself and I hope for no one to ever have to experience what my family went through. I suppose I am challenging you all today to pick something – a cause, a friend, a charity – and help. Give blood, sign up to be a bone marrow donor, or simply click on a computer screen. Thank you, my friends.
And to my kids that are clicking today at my mother’s encouragement, don’t worry, I am bringing you all candy this afternoon. 🙂
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