“Nothing worth doing is ever easy”, these are the words of my Dad, the person who survived bleak odds, survived longer than any health professional predicted, and though was forced to retire as a surgeon, decided to write this blog in order to continue to fulfil his desire to help others.
Dad’s passion was medicine and surgery, for which he approached as an art form. The patient was the number one priority; the operation was only a fraction of what Dad did for his patients. Intense medical work-up and counselling followed by post-operative consultation were absolutely necessary to ensure his work was nothing short of perfect and the patient was happy. A former colleague of Dad’s said to me “watching your Dad in theatre was like watching a ballet dancer on stage”. His surgical skills were delicate and perfected over years of experience.
This burning desire to help is what sparked Dad’s drive to write about his experience with cancer and chemotherapy, sharing his ideas in the hopes that others would benefit. Whether that be someone attempting to cope with the devastating news of a cancer diagnosis, someone attempting to cope with the ill effects of treatment, or the family members of someone with cancer trying to process and manage the rollercoaster ride of emotions that follow. What Dad didn’t realise is that not only did it help these people, but also those dealing with the general ups and downs of life who said it gave them perspective and inspiration. Dad also found the experience cathartic; the process both therapeutic and rewarding. Dad considered all the subscribers someone special and important, and we thank you for your support and for listening to our Dad’s story. We hope that, regardless of your situation, that it has helped you, your family or even your friends. That was Dad’s wish.
What Dad endured would leave most people bed-bound and unable to face the world. But every day he would force himself out of bed and push on through the day. His strength will always stick out in our memory of him. What was it that drove him to fight so hard, for so long, enduring days on end feeling nauseous, fatigued and in large amounts of pain? One cannot deny Dad’s intense level of independence, but most of all it was the love for his family that made every extra day with us worth all the pain. Dad was always setting himself goals in his personal and professional life, and this chapter was no different. Initially his goals were broad and slowly they became more and more specific; He set himself a goal to be pain free for his youngest daughter’s wedding, to survive to see his eldest daughter become a valuable and sought after business woman and to guide me through medical school. Then it became surviving to see the birth of his first grandchild, then his second, then to live to experience their first words, first steps, first birthday parties and first words. These were a source of great satisfaction and accomplishment for Dad; it’s what he referred to as his “medicine”, and one that no doctor could prescribe. In this time Dad accomplished a lot. He was there to celebrate these experiences with us and we have wonderful and timeless memories to show for it. This was Dad’s gift to us, his family was more important than anything in the world.
Through all of this it was my Mom who was the shining star that guided Dad through the good times and the bad, and I have deliberately left her mention to last. Mom gave Dad the strength and encouragement that was crucial in surviving long enough to share all these experiences. The relationship between my Mom and Dad was something truly special, madly in love up until the very end. They were always in each other’s arms and showering each other with kisses. No goodbye was ever said without an “I love you”. Mom is the rock of the family, not the loudest or the most outwardly spoken, but she kept us all together with her smiles, her hugs and her unconditional love. Remaining positive and supporting all the family. Toward the end she was nursing Dad full time, ensuring he made it to appointments, remembered to take his medication, and assisting him to get around the house. My Mom showed courage and strength I’ve never seen; she truly is a rare gem.
The final week of Dad’s life was spent sedated and unconscious in the palliative care ward of St Vincent’s Hospital in Brisbane. Dad had always said he wanted to die at home, however trying to manage his symptoms became an uphill battle. With the suggestion from the palliative care team and with Dad’s approval the family transferred to St Vincent’s Hospital for End of Life care. This was to be a blessing in disguise.
The palliative care team at St Vincent’s had been managing Dad’s care for the last 3 years. All the staff had become very fond of my Mom and Dad, and many would drop-in to say hi, to give my Mom a hug and hold my Dad’s hand. The doctors gave us hours of their time every day to explain, reassure and discuss my Dad’s care. Consults were never a rush, which is rare in hospital. The nurses were there whenever we needed and always offered reassuring words when things were difficult, their compassion and experience made a world of difference. Even the cleaners were giving us hugs by the end. My Mom said it “felt like coming home to family”, that was how special the care offered at St Vincent’s Palliative Care was. The whole family spent 7 days and 7 nights in the one room until Dad was ready to pass on. In the end, on the 6th March 2016, Dad’s wishes were fulfilled; to die peacefully, surrounded by his loving family.
The week was filled with more tears than I had shed in my entire life. But this time was special for reasons that are hard to explain. Our family has always been very close, but the week spent in hospital brought us even closer and we all gained a level of closure we all needed. Though we’re all still grasping with the reality of the situation, Dad continues to inspire us all to push forward in a new chapter of our lives. Dad always said “don’t waste your time looking at the doors that shut in your face, for if you look around there are many more doors opening for you that will lead to happiness and success”.
Through our memories you will continue to live on, we love you Dad xoxo
chemo33 