OUT OF THE FRYING PAN

Today I attended the funeral of someone who has been a fixture here for quite some time.  The father of a classmate and a coworker.  Tough as nails and rough around the edges, but a good man.  Hard work, a bit of hard play and what I would consider a successful life.  I wrote a bit about him in the last blog.  Cancer ate him alive.  Horrible to watch him shrink and suffer.  Undeserved.

When my Grandmother died, I bought her house from my mother.  My Grandparents had built the house and it was the only place I ever really wanted to live.  It took a number of years before circumstances allowed it to be my full time home, but now it is.  When I bought it, the septic system had been failed (arbitrarily - fuck government busy bodies) and before I could get a mortgage, I had to replace it.  Luckily, my mother was fine with the actual sale not taking place until I had installed a new septic.  The fellow who's funeral I attended today was the excavator who did all the necessary digging.  For years my Grandfather had steered a fair amount of business his way and when it came time for me to get a bill, I had one hell of a time getting him to give me one because "your Grandpa was awfully good to me."  I had to force him to give me a bill because, while I appreciated the sentiment, I am not my Grandpa (I could never ever measure up to that high mark.). 

Cancer sucks.  It has taken too many that have been close.

In that previous blog, I also mentioned my mother's precarious health.  Since that time, I wish it was good enough to be precarious.  Two weeks ago tomorrow, she called.  Her heart was racing and she had coughed up some blood.  I got her and my Dad on the way to the emergency room and I followed.

She was in atrial fibrillation with a heart rate of 170 and a blood pressure off the charts (I don't remember what it was and don't think I want to).  Once they got the heart rate down and the blood pressure down and were starting to deal with the atrial fibrillation, a chest x-ray showed a hilar mass on her left lung and a large amount of fluid.  SHIT.  A needle in the back to drain fluid (over a liter). A Bronchoscopy would be required to get a biopsy of the mass and that was scheduled.  My mother was a smoker in her younger days and suffers from a bit of emphysema so things got complex.  During the procedure, her lung was punctured and collapsed.  She stopped breathing.  A chest tube was inserted and her lung was (mostly) reinflated, but complications did not allow the biopsy to be taken.  Her condition became even more serious and she had an ambulance ride to another facility better equipped.  Once transported and in intensive care, the chest tube was adjusted and serious improvement would be required before a second Bronchoscopy (intubated as well) could be performed and since the fluid drained from her lungs was being tested as well as scrapings from the failed first Bronchoscopy for odd cells.  After two days, the results came back negative....good news, but not good news because that means that the second procedure was necessary.  Prep was done and the procedure was preformed and a sample of the mass was retrieved.  Now the waiting game again. 

My mother has been run over by a freight train but remains herself.  When walking the hall of the ICU, the cleaning lady grabs my arm and tells me "I just love your mother!"  Finally the chest tube is removed and she is transfered to a regular room 9 days after entering the hospital.  She is incredibly weak and short of breath.  She needs assistance to get out of bed and to the chair or the bathroom, but she still remains herself and has the nurses laughing.  After two days, the results of the biopsy come back.   Positive.  Adenocarcinoma stage 3A.  Not Shit.  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  All this suffering and more to come.  Life has just changed for all of us.

My mom, same as ever, looks at me and says, "Oh Rob, its going to be a rough road isn't it?"

I replied, "Yes, but we will pave it."

I believe in God.  I believe in Christ.  Things like this are faith testers and the Lord knows we have had enough of them.  My mother is so undeserving of the hell she has gone through and will go through in the coming weeks, it makes me wonder what the fuck the hidden plan is.

The funeral I went to today was the first funeral I have been through since I buried my Great Aunt.  I have managed to weasel out of them because I hate them with a passion.  I am hoping for my mother and my own selfish needs that I can weasel out of another one for a while yet.