The Diagnosis

My Dad is not a great telephone conversationalist.  Most calls last less than one minute and usually consist of, “Your Mother and I are heading to the track.”  Last Wednesday afternoon, he called me and his first words were, “I have bladder cancer.”  It felt as if all air and sound had been sucked out of the noisy office I was in.  He and my Mother had just left the doctor’s office after getting the report of the biopsy from his surgery of two weeks ago.  Now, they would have to wait for the hospital to call them to schedule more tests. 

I immediately prayed to God for my parents knowing this would be a rough road again for both of them.  Dad had open heart surgery last June when the extent of the heart disease was discovered in the pre-op work-up for this very same offending bladder polyp.  This meant that the polyp had been there for at least a year; when had it become cancerous?  He had experienced bladder problems for years now, was the cancer missed on previous examinations?  None of this really mattered; we would have to focus on what was now diagnosed.

After the call, I did what many would nowadays; I got on the internet and began to research bladder cancer especially the treatment options and the prognosis rates.  I also briefly spoke with one of the doctors in the office.  Being a nurse, I could comprehend what he was saying and what I read, but being a daughter I didn’t want to hear or read some hard facts. 

On Friday, my parents and my sister met with the oncologist.  My sister was prepared with a list of questions and she carefully documented the answers she received.  Thank God she was there for the support of our parents and her clear-headedness.  While my parents seemed to be coping well; my Mother later told me that she did not remember much of what was said.  I have been told that Dr. Lori was caring and honest with the information and the plan of treatment they would need to begin.  My Dad felt very comfortable and trusting of her.  Tough decisions had to be made by him that day.  Despite the stress from this meeting, his day was far from over.  He spent the afternoon and evening being scanned from head to pelvis. 

I visited with my family on Saturday.  My Dad looks good, strong and healthy which is a great way to begin the chemotherapy awaiting him next week.  I reminded him that he had survived Korea, almost 30 years as a firefighter, numerous other health issues and most recently his heart surgery.  He had questions, concerns and anxieties but more importantly he has faith and the belief that, “I will beat this.”  I had brought him the research information he had asked for and a journal that I hope he will use to chronicle this journey.  I also brought a journal for my mother as she will again be his primary caregiver. 

Waiting is rough; thoughts and emotions can be all over the place.  I have stopped my internet search, we will know more next week when all the test results are back.   Prayer is my release and my strength.   I know that my Dad is blessed with a loving and supportive family, good friends and neighbors.  It will be vital that we remain strong for him and my Mother as they begin this battle.      

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