Sitting on the sidelines

For any of you who have experienced witnessing a loved one with cancer will know that one of the cruelest parts of this disease is not only its ability to destroy the patient's mind and body, but also how it tears at the heart strings of the healthy loved ones like nothing I have ever experienced. My dad is steadily declining and is in extreme discomfort. We have moved past the 9 month pregnant belly and now it looks like he could be carrying triplets in there. The fluid is causing him a lot of pain and trouble breathing, but the problem with draining it is that it depletes electrolytes, calcium and sodium in his system. Those levels were so out of wak when he was admitted that the attending told me yesterday that if he hadn't been admitted, he would have already been dead. He got a pain patch yesterday and he is flying higher than a kite. He is still mentally pretty with it, but because he is in a constant state of la la land, there are times when he starts muttering things that don't make any sense. Yesterday I made him his favorite dish, pastina with an egg. It's something my Italian grandmother had as a kid in Italy and we have all grown up with it. It's the best comfort food in the world, and it's the only thing he wanted.

Yesterday was spent at the hospital pretty much all day, and it was a stark reminder that this disease affects so many families. Sadly the 50 year old woman in the room next to my dad lost her battle to breast cancer in the afternoon while we were there. Her family was on death watch all afternoon, including her parents, and people coming and going in the hall, cries broken up with an occasional laugh. When she passed, we heard screams and cries, and if it was even possible for my heart to be broken anymore, it was. Seeing this woman's young sons lose their mother was a stark reminder again of how blessed I am. While it still seems surreal that I am going to lose my dad, I am more at peace that I thought I could be. All of the docs and nurses that come in talk about how rare this cancer is, and you know, he just got the shit end of the deal on this, but that's life. Sometimes it just isn't fair.

What is hope?

When I started writing my blog updates, many of my friends commented on how I needed to have hope, and the eternal pessimist or perhaps just plain realist in me knew that hope was a cruel emotion. While having hope can certainly end with a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, it can also remind you of how your plans for the future are out of your hands and it can leave you thinking about what could have been. It seems that after only four short months, my dad's cancer has spread and in fact not responded to chemo in the way that we "hoped." He has been in the hospital for a week now and while some of his complications have subsided, others have crept up and have taken over. I came home last night and when I got to the hospital this morning, it was right after some attending physician walked in and said to him, while he was alone with no support, that he should think about hospice because there were more tumors. My dad was distraught and just kept saying he wasn't ready to die. It broke my heart. And I let the staff hear a piece of my mind as you can imagine about the utter lack of bed side manner by that attending and the lack of compassion for my dying father. His head oncologist wants to try one more chemo drug, and tomorrow, we will hear why. I know there is no magic cure hiding in his back pocket, but if it will provide relief, then I am all for it.

I know that the dad I love is still mentally holding on, but sadly, his body is fighting and losing that battle. I am not sure what more I can post because once he passes, I am sure a post about that won't be what you all want to read, and I am sure I am not going to want to really write it either, but who knows - I never thought I could find some comfort in these updates (thanks again Randi for putting the bug in my ear). For those of you who know my dad, you know he's a great man. He's caring, funny and ridiculously smart, but he could have a conversation with anyone, regardless of race, education level, socioeconomic status and make them feel like an equal. For those of you that have never met him, meet my brother some day. He is a spitting image and equally as wonderful (most times!) He (well and Mo kind of too) is the reason I am who I am today. Strong, driven, organized and a big dork! I take after him. I get my stubborn no nonsense attitude and my strength from my mom for sure. I have no regrets and only joy for what I was given for my family. I am so grateful for every moment and wouldn't change a thing. As Matty and I talked about, there are no regrets, just heartbreak for what he will miss. Matty and Maygan's kids (notice I didn't say mine!), walking me down the aisle (notice all hope isn't lost!), another trip to Italy, talking on football Sundays after ever good and bad play (we do that - every game), and just enjoying more time with my crazy ass mom. I know there are countless more memories that could have been, but there are so many that were and for that, I will always be eternally blessed.

Thank you friends for your unwavering support. I never would have thought that my life would be like this at this moment, but I guess it never turns out like you hope, does it? xoxoxo, Chrissy

And the hits just keep on coming...

I am going to keep this one short. I still can't believe I am writing these updates on my dad. It seems surreal at times. My dad was hospitalized on Friday. Because he was too sick to get chemo, they decided he needed fluids. It's kind of ironic since his stomach is filled with it, but I guess it's a combination of him draining 2 liters a day, and nutrients not being replenished fast enough. They put in a central line and a picc line - all I can say is OUCH. I won't even tell you where they put in the central line - guys, you would cringe. He has been getting fluids non-stop. However, he did get sick yesterday and lost a lot of fluids so his blood pressure dropped pretty quickly -- it was down to 70/40. The docs apparently went into take charge mode and were able to get it up in a short period of time. Fast forward to today, I just spoke with my dad and they are now ordering physical therapy. Since he's basically been in bed for 2 weeks straight, he's lost a lot of strength. Add that to his already weak body and apparently it's much needed.

I will say the conversations I have with my family are getting increasingly more sad and it's hard being away from home. Is this enough to prompt me to move back to the 'burgh? Come on now - I haven't lost my mind YET! My dad on the phone this morning sounded defeated and my mom asked me to come home to talk about plans for what to do with my dad's dental practice since he's not able to work right now. And so here's where that strength I have been praying for hopefully will help! It's been working so far, but I tell you, this does get harder by the day. Ok - no more Debbie Downer for me today! xoxoxo to you all!

Liquor before beer...And Scooby is in the clear!

Well that title pretty much sums up my weekend. I spent most of it with friends, enjoying a glass or two or three of my drink of choice, Jamison. It was a fairly nice weekend in DC, so it was good to be outside. I debated going home to Pitt off and on all weekend, but after talking to my family, decided to stay far far away! Things have been a bit crappy now for a few weeks. My dad's chemo is getting the best of him and he spent the better part of 5 days in bed sleeping. My mom, who is used to their Friday date night ritual (for the last 39 years), is having a hard time seeing my dad like this and is feeling restless and helpless. I am the cheerleader, shrink, voice of reason, and the only sane Cianflone! All joking aside though, this was perhaps one of my hardest weekends since April. I think it finally caught up with me, all of this. I will say, I wouldn't wish the big C on my worst enemy. It's a ruthless disease that eats away at the patient and tests the strength and resolve of the family it seeks to destroy. Lucky for me, starting next Monday, I will be at the National Cancer Institute for a 4 week course on CANCER. M-F all day - cancer. Dare I say I need a new job!

As for my main man - Scoobs is all clear. He had a massive abscess in one of his canine teeth so he had to have that removed. He was flying higher than a kite for the better part of two days, and you better believe, if I could have gotten my hands on that drug, I would have :) He's all back to normal now, almost done with the antibiotics and after nearly $500 later, he's remaining teeth are pearly white.