Chapter 29. Cancer

“Strange is our situation here upon the earth… 

Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, 

yet sometimes seeming to divine a purpose. 

From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: 

we are here for the sake of others…” 

–Albert Einstein

August and September of 1998 brings news that our parents have cancer: my dad, melanoma in his lower colon; Gregg's dad Carl, in his kidney; my mom, breast. Marilyn Wikstrom (sister Kaye's husband Daryl’s mom) dies from brain cancer in early Oct. 

I journal prolifically, so will bullet point key events, especially around the cancer updates, in summary below.

First an update of an overall picture during fall into winter: in addition to trips to Iowa in support of hurting family members, we stay engaged in the everyday.

         

 - Seth, now a high-school senior, takes a post-secondary course at Carleton (Comparative Political Regimes);

-          I continue to teach childbirth education classes;

-          we engage in birthday parties and holiday preparation and festivities;

-          repair our vehicles (water pump replaced in the car, breaks in the truck);

-          nurture our kids through their ups and downs and many games and activities;

-          host a German student for two weeks;

-          continue with marriage and family counseling every other week (Becky and Seth come to a session in early Oct, all the kids in mid-Oct);

-          repair and re-shingle the roof, finding carpenter ant nests that necessitate treatment by the Orkin man to the tune of an unexpected and unwelcome $850.

Relationships blossom and die: 

Seth declares he and Hannah are girlfriend and boyfriend on Sept 11, 

Becky breaks up with a boyfriend on Oct 7, 

Allure asks for a separation from Steve on Oct 9.

Betty & Carl at John & Jeree's wedding

Gregg and I continue to spar and hug, hurt and heal. A timeline below, of some of the cancer craziness, illuminates some of the chaos and heartache apart from the relational difficulties.

Carl

Sept 9, 1998 diagnosis: cancerous tumor on his kidney; treatment: surgery to remove involved kidney; Gregg plans on being with his dad when they do surgery in the next week or two

Christmas 1998

Mom
Nov 2, 1998. Diagnosis: cyst in left breast; treatment: surgical removal

Nov 3, 1998. Find out cyst is cancerous

I wept. I ache so for them both - Mom will be going through radiation while Dad is having his treatments

Nov 3, 1998. Lymph nodes NOT involved

I'm so grateful to God for no metastasis in Mom

Dec 4, 1998. Starts radiation for 3 to 5 weeks

Dad

Sep 10, 1998. Diagnosis: unusual case of melanoma-type cancerous cells in his colon with the tumor being near the rectum; X-ray shows some involvement of lymph nodes in the groin area

Sep 30, 1998. Dad has surgery in Sioux City; he gets permanent colostomy; all us kids are with him

Oct 4, 1998. Finds out that the cancerous cells have spread beyond the tumor and are in the lymph nodes

Oct 8, 1998. Has pain from the surgery and is not adjusting to the colostomy so well; Dad makes comment about wishing he could die

Nov 13, 1998. Discovers one enlarged lymph node, to be biopsied on Monday; he’s had lotsa pain - the surgery site (anal) kept hurting lots - he had an anal fissure. I ache for him and Mom

Nov 20, 1998. CAT scan on Nov 19 shows lung involvement and fast-growing cancer; Dad has such continuous and bad rectal pain that persists, that they're thinking that the tumor is growing back there also. We're all aching. Prognosis is 6 months. Maybe the Europe trip will happen in January?

Dec 4, 1998. Starts radiation – to last 3 weeks; church lines up people to help with rides to Sioux City; constant pain from one of the tumors he has on and into the sacrum and surrounding soft tissue

Europe trip: Dad with his kids, late 1998 into early 1999

Dec 25, 1998. Much pain, but a good sport; sits with the family a couple of hours before retiring to bed; when Dad was asked what he was looking forward to with this trip, he said, "Making my kids happy"

Feb 8, 1999. Dad decides to NOT pursue any additional treatment; has been mostly bedridden for a few weeks

Feb 12, 1999. Mom falls and breaks her right wrist; us siblings take turns staying with Dad and helping Mom

Feb 15, 1999. Hospice care begins; dad is bedridden;

oncologist said he has between 2 weeks to 2 months

Sat, Feb 27, 1999. Many of us kids are ‘home; Dad has vision; last goodbye for my kids

Sun, Mar 7, 1999. 9:45 pm. Dad dies; Gregg drives me to Storm Lake; though Dad dies before I arrive back home I say my final goodbye to his lifeless body as “Arms of the Angel” plays in the bedroom

Somewhere, out at the edges, the night

Is turning and the waves of darkness

Begin to brighten the shore of dawn

The heavy dark falls back to earth

and the freed air goes wild with light,

The heart fills with fresh, bright breath

And thoughts stir to give birth to color.

–John O’Donohue, Matins, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessing

Allow me to back up to fall of 1998. Through the illnesses, Gregg and I continue our own heartbreak. There’s lots of tears. My processing continues, ad nauseum, with a portion of it below.

Oct 12, 1998. I've had a tough day today emotionally. I was tearful most of the morning (really, I haven't felt this bad in awhile!); thinking more about the affair stuff...sometimes I still feel so heartbroken... and hurt and sad that both Gregg and my 'good' girlfriend choose other than me...

A week later, while cleaning a file cabinet I happen upon my “Encouragements” folder and start reading some of the notes Gregg had written before the Allure stuff where he called me his “one and only.” There are notes of affection during the previous couple of years too. I feel grieved over what we’ve lost and amazed he could say those words to me while he was involved with her. 

When Gregg comes home from work, upon seeing that I am sad and upset, he asks me what is going on. When I tell him, I want to hear him say sorry (again!) and that he can hardly understand why he did what he did, that he wishes it never would have happened, and then pray with me. Instead he is quiet – doesn’t say anything.

Oct 19, 1998.

I went to bed early (I was hurt/mad). In the morning, it was on my mind and I started weeping. We talked a bit - he said that the reason he was quiet was because his first thoughts when we talked that night before was "well, you did the same thing, wrote me notes or told me that you still loved me when you were 'involved' with Paul." I said that I can see where he thinks of that, and that there are some similarities, but that the Paul stuff feels so much different to me than his Allure stuff.

I said, “I've never loved Paul like you loved Allure” - there was a sexual attraction for a time, but I was mostly attracted to the sweet words and affirmation....he was more of a friend than a lover. 

Gregg asked me why it is that I can't give Paul up. I said that I don't feel it necessary, that I was willing to let him have a friendship with Allure before I knew how intense they were, so why can't I have a friendship with Paul? 
But I am willing to give it up if it seems best to do so.

Feelings of loss are my constant companion. 

   My own loss of purity. 

   The loss of Gregg not being crazy about me, only me. 

   To not be his one and only. 

   To not be his love.

DREAM. Oct 19, 1998. Paul shows up to drive Allure to some other place (and was about 5'5" - just a tad shorter than me). Allure is at our house and we are all being calm and nonchalant about being together. It seems like Allure is in some sort of trouble.

I am anything but calm and nonchalant in waking life. I have an individual counseling session with Maureen on November 3 and she identifies self-pity in me. She reminds me that self-pity is of the darkness and she encourages me to fight and not succumb to it.

I react with an internal “you’re right,” and also lots of shame-related despairing, thinking to myself “here’s one more thing I’ve done wrong." 

Hard to put words to my internal angst over this label of self-pity --- - maybe crushing devastation? I recall sitting in the parking lot after the appointment, tears flowing, wondering if I can make it home.

Overall feeling: I am just one big WRONG!” 

I know in my head that idea – of me as only wrong – is a lie, but battle fiercely internally. About this time, to add to the struggle, I have a bit of a run-in with Gregg’s mom over the breach in relationship from the John and Becky stuff and my needing some space. She speaks abruptly and rather angrily out of her upset and then feels badly. I too feel awful.

Just feeling bad all around.

"Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light." 

- Brene Brown