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So Sunday is my father's birthday; the first one since he died. I remember, last year, running to a local shop that does personalization and engraving, to get something special for him. I found a functional name plate, pen and paper stand that I had engraved with his name, and took him out to his favorite restaurant to give it to him.
I so wish that we had known his cancer had come back by that time. His nephrologist, who had removed his cancerous kidney a few years ago, and who never referred him to an oncologist, had declared him cancer free in September of last year. Dad started, sometime in December or early January, producing excess fluid in his abdomen, which I later found out, is called ascites, and is a sign of either advanced cancer, liver failure or kidney failure. He went to see an oncologist on January 23, who told him that the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes, liver, and throughout his abdomen, and found that he had hepato-renal syndrome.
My dad died on February 12 of this year.
I remember, after the diagnosis, I wanted to spend much more time with both him and my mom, and we went to a little Italian place for lunch, just like we used to do, when he was at work and I wanted to have lunch with him. We talked about what was happening, and that he believed that this was God's will, and that it didn't really matter whether the nephrologist was remiss in his duties or not, that if God had chosen that date for him to die, then there was no stopping or changing that.
So while I know he was at peace with his death, and I got to record him preaching, telling jokes, stories, etc., it's still so incredibly hard to make it through right now, especially with his birthday being so close.
I so wish that we had known his cancer had come back by that time. His nephrologist, who had removed his cancerous kidney a few years ago, and who never referred him to an oncologist, had declared him cancer free in September of last year. Dad started, sometime in December or early January, producing excess fluid in his abdomen, which I later found out, is called ascites, and is a sign of either advanced cancer, liver failure or kidney failure. He went to see an oncologist on January 23, who told him that the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes, liver, and throughout his abdomen, and found that he had hepato-renal syndrome.
My dad died on February 12 of this year.
I remember, after the diagnosis, I wanted to spend much more time with both him and my mom, and we went to a little Italian place for lunch, just like we used to do, when he was at work and I wanted to have lunch with him. We talked about what was happening, and that he believed that this was God's will, and that it didn't really matter whether the nephrologist was remiss in his duties or not, that if God had chosen that date for him to die, then there was no stopping or changing that.
So while I know he was at peace with his death, and I got to record him preaching, telling jokes, stories, etc., it's still so incredibly hard to make it through right now, especially with his birthday being so close.
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