I just wanted to share this:
Everyone always tells me 'Wow! She's got her Mummy's eyes!' but nope... this proves it - the blue's yours
And Jen's boys have them too.
Good genes you got there.
Love you Dad xoxo
Saturday, March 12, 2011
You and Your Girl
Dear Dad,
I just wanted to share this:
Everyone always tells me 'Wow! She's got her Mummy's eyes!' but nope... this proves it - the blue's yours
And Jen's boys have them too.
Good genes you got there.
Love you Dad xoxo
I just wanted to share this:
Everyone always tells me 'Wow! She's got her Mummy's eyes!' but nope... this proves it - the blue's yours
And Jen's boys have them too.
Good genes you got there.
Love you Dad xoxo
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Short changed on my Long term goals
10 March 2011
Dear Dad,
It was great to catch you yesterday afternoon. To be honest I completely forgotten that you had chemo yesterday, hence the state of the house when you and Mum arrived.... yeah Toddlers are great like that...
Anyway, it was good to catch up for a coffee. You were, as always, happy and chatting and keen to catch up, especially with Mike on Earthquake recovery up in Chch, I had all the juicy behind the scene's gossip for you.
And it's great you're feeling so good and doing so well, you're being amazingly strong.
But.
I thought you were looking yellow.
REALLY yellow.
You probably don't notice it so much in yourself because you look at yourself every day, but in the week or so since we last caught up I though it was really noticeable.
It's Cam's birthday tomorrow, so when we catch up over the weekend for his Cake I'm going to take a whole lot of photo's of you with the kids, before you start to look even worse. It makes me sick to think like that, but I guess I have to be realistic too.... you've NOT going to go back to looking like you used to. Not without some sort of miracle (one we're all praying for...) I need to start taking photo's NOW. I've got a couple of you and Cam from when you were in hospital, but I need more, I need then taken at home and I need them while you're not looking that sick. I especially need them while you're not feeling sick.
God I wish I didn't even have to think about these things.
God I wish every time I saw you I didn't have to think 'Wow, this is as good as Dad's EVER going to look from now on.
At tech last week we had to set some 'long term goals', 5+ years, and throughout the class they generally all included graduating with our bachelors. And of course it lead to the usual 'Wow my daughter will be FIVE by then! it seems so unreal!' and all I could think was
'My Dad's not going to see me graduate'
And I cried on the drive home.
I hate this disease Dad, I really fucking hate it.
I love you, see you on Saturday
xoxo
Dear Dad,
It was great to catch you yesterday afternoon. To be honest I completely forgotten that you had chemo yesterday, hence the state of the house when you and Mum arrived.... yeah Toddlers are great like that...
Anyway, it was good to catch up for a coffee. You were, as always, happy and chatting and keen to catch up, especially with Mike on Earthquake recovery up in Chch, I had all the juicy behind the scene's gossip for you.
And it's great you're feeling so good and doing so well, you're being amazingly strong.
But.
I thought you were looking yellow.
REALLY yellow.
You probably don't notice it so much in yourself because you look at yourself every day, but in the week or so since we last caught up I though it was really noticeable.
It's Cam's birthday tomorrow, so when we catch up over the weekend for his Cake I'm going to take a whole lot of photo's of you with the kids, before you start to look even worse. It makes me sick to think like that, but I guess I have to be realistic too.... you've NOT going to go back to looking like you used to. Not without some sort of miracle (one we're all praying for...) I need to start taking photo's NOW. I've got a couple of you and Cam from when you were in hospital, but I need more, I need then taken at home and I need them while you're not looking that sick. I especially need them while you're not feeling sick.
God I wish I didn't even have to think about these things.
God I wish every time I saw you I didn't have to think 'Wow, this is as good as Dad's EVER going to look from now on.
At tech last week we had to set some 'long term goals', 5+ years, and throughout the class they generally all included graduating with our bachelors. And of course it lead to the usual 'Wow my daughter will be FIVE by then! it seems so unreal!' and all I could think was
'My Dad's not going to see me graduate'
And I cried on the drive home.
I hate this disease Dad, I really fucking hate it.
I love you, see you on Saturday
xoxo
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Lost in the Translation
5 March 2011
Dear Dad,
So it's been a couple of weeks but we finally managed to catch up last weekend.
And Wow. You've lost a lot of weight huh? I was stunned to be honest. I guess it was to be expected but wow, I hadn't expected it so quickly.
Otherwise you're doing OK - you haven't been spewing, you haven't lost any of your hair, and you don't REALLY look sick yet. The big bruises on your arms were probably the only thing that made me think 'wow, that guy's sick' rather than 'Wow, Dave's lost weight'
You're doing really well with your chemo, keep it up! It's the best chance you have!
And when we caught up on Thursday you said Dr Perez was really positive too, you're liver's going down, and you're able to eat more, which is fantastic.
But to be honest, I'm concerned about the massive difference between what the Doctor's telling you, and what you're actually hearing. I thought for a start you were being wildly optimistic and positive, but I spoke with Jenny about it today and her version of what you've been telling people concurs with mine.
You seem to think that it's going to take two years for the treatment to beat the cancer, that they're not doing anything about the lymphoma yet because they're going to wait until the main tumors have been destroyed.
Dad that's not what they told you.
He said 'the average life expectancy for this cancer is about two years. The drugs we've got you on will shrink the tumours, but they'll never eradicate them unfortunately. We're not going to bother treating for the lymphoma because lymphoma is slow growing'
In other words - this is terminal. There's no point in treating the lymphoma, because the the dirty mongrel tumour will kill you first.
God I don't know what to do. Are you just being optimistic? or have you honestly been bamboozled with medical speak? It breaks my heart to hear you talking about recovery. It terrifies me to think of the awful awful shock you're going to get when the tumors stop shrinking and we start talking about hospice and palliative care. The awful shock you're going to get when the rest of us understood and have known all along.
And whose job is it to tell you? Ask you what you actually understand?
Shit I think I need to talk to Doctor Perez.
Love you Dad
xoxox
Dear Dad,
So it's been a couple of weeks but we finally managed to catch up last weekend.
And Wow. You've lost a lot of weight huh? I was stunned to be honest. I guess it was to be expected but wow, I hadn't expected it so quickly.
Otherwise you're doing OK - you haven't been spewing, you haven't lost any of your hair, and you don't REALLY look sick yet. The big bruises on your arms were probably the only thing that made me think 'wow, that guy's sick' rather than 'Wow, Dave's lost weight'
You're doing really well with your chemo, keep it up! It's the best chance you have!
And when we caught up on Thursday you said Dr Perez was really positive too, you're liver's going down, and you're able to eat more, which is fantastic.
But to be honest, I'm concerned about the massive difference between what the Doctor's telling you, and what you're actually hearing. I thought for a start you were being wildly optimistic and positive, but I spoke with Jenny about it today and her version of what you've been telling people concurs with mine.
You seem to think that it's going to take two years for the treatment to beat the cancer, that they're not doing anything about the lymphoma yet because they're going to wait until the main tumors have been destroyed.
Dad that's not what they told you.
He said 'the average life expectancy for this cancer is about two years. The drugs we've got you on will shrink the tumours, but they'll never eradicate them unfortunately. We're not going to bother treating for the lymphoma because lymphoma is slow growing'
In other words - this is terminal. There's no point in treating the lymphoma, because the the dirty mongrel tumour will kill you first.
God I don't know what to do. Are you just being optimistic? or have you honestly been bamboozled with medical speak? It breaks my heart to hear you talking about recovery. It terrifies me to think of the awful awful shock you're going to get when the tumors stop shrinking and we start talking about hospice and palliative care. The awful shock you're going to get when the rest of us understood and have known all along.
And whose job is it to tell you? Ask you what you actually understand?
Shit I think I need to talk to Doctor Perez.
Love you Dad
xoxox
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