the brutal and honest truth.

so here it is. the brutal and honest truth. my dad's cancer is terminal and there isn't a lot they can do. he won't be cured. and he won't ever be in remission. he'll be lucky if he gets to live another year or two. our trip to turks and caicos was brutally hard at times and lovely at others. some days i cry and some days i ball my eyes out. sometimes i'm lucky and don't cry at all. waterproof mascara has become my best friend. i never quite know when those tears might show up. i can't tell you how much all of this sucks. but then, some of you who read my blog already know from losing a parent or sibling.

i'm broken hearted. i'm scared. it sucks and it's not fair. why my dad?! why no treatments?!

kidney cancer is rare. guess that makes my dad lucky. it's so rare that they don't have that many drugs out there to fight it and they don't have much research. when we first got his diagnosis, they made it all sound so easy. first chemo. the chemo, i thought was supposed to shrink and get rid of the mestastases and hold the kidney steady and if lucky shrink the kidney. then there would be surgery to remove the kidney when he was strong enough. for awhile the torisel seemed to really improve dad's day to day functioning and there seemed like ok, well, when will he be strong enough for this week long hospital stay. removing a kidney apparently is quite hard.

i learned in february that was not so much what would happen. after more scans and talking with the doctor, there will be no surgery. not now, not ever. it's not possible. we could try, but then he'd still have the spots on his lung and lymph noes and his bone. and since you can't do chemo for 6-8 weeks after surgery, all of that cancer metastases would be allowed to grow at whatever speed they wanted. and this was the first time nothing sounded easy and nothing sounded good and i learned there would be no cure. there would be no remission. at best, the treatments would inhibit growth and spreading of the cancer and prolong dad's life and hopefully improve the quality of his life.

when you make your bucket list, dad told me some months ago when he was first diagnosed, they don't tell you you'll have no energy or ability to actually do any of it.

and so he continued the torisel until it stopped inhibiting growth. i'll continue that story in the next post about TCI.

and so, somehow i have to come to terms that my daddy will be gone all too soon. and we don't know when. or how long the drugs will allow him to postpone the inevitable. but in all likelihood, i won't have my daddy to walk me down the aisle. or play with any future grandkids. he likely will never see either of his children get married as neither of us are even dating anyone. and he'll never have grandkids that he gets to meet as my brother has no kids either. and all of this has me feeling awful.... he's only 60. he's supposed to be much much older. there's supposed to be so much more time. and wtf?! why?!and i always thought i was super lucky to have such young parents (25 & 27 when i was born). young parents means they'll be around so much longer right?! i always thought so. guess maybe not so much...

and so that is my brutally honest update. i'm sure i'll have more to come.