My Dad, the Roomie

I’ve been struggling with how to write this post for over a week now. Because eventually, when life continues to hand you unbelievable and shockingly shitty situations, you just stop finding the words. You stop finding the energy to even look for the words.

Instead, you take action. One hour, one day, at a time, you do what needs to get done. You go through the process. Through the motions. Eventually, the words will come.

But first actions.

The last two weeks have been full of action - hours on the phone with insurance companies and the disability office and doctor’s offices. Hours in the car driving back and forth between Michigan and Virginia. Hours trying to make a plan. 

Because when someone you love is struggling, you show up. You take action.

And my dad, he’s been struggling.

Two weeks ago, he was diagnosed with Esophageal cancer. 

Yet again, cancer has reemerged into our lives.

My dad hasn’t had it easy in the last few years. He’s been in and out of the hospital with complications due to diabetes, congestive heart failure, and kidney failure. And now, on top of it all, a cancer diagnosis. 

It’s too much to go through alone. It’s something no one should have to go through alone. And because his prior health conditions complicate an already complicated situation, we decided the best option for him would be to live with me in Northern Michigan.

So we came up with a plan of action. Get him new health insurance. Get him set up on dialysis. Find his new team of doctors. Move him up. Start treatment.

But life doesn’t always go as planned, as we’ve learned all too well. Due to a series of obstacles, we are now stuck in limbo. Stuck in Detroit, in between his old home and his new. Stuck between the past and the future. Stuck without any concrete answers or any concrete plans.

It’s hard. All of it. Cancer always is. 

And another diagnosis obviously brings up a lot of triggers for me - unexpected ER trips, oncology appointments, endless research trying to gain knowledge and answers. Fear. Hope. Love. It triggers it all.

But as difficult as it will be, I know I can handle it. Because we’ve been here before. And I am grateful to be in a position to be able to help. Grateful that I have a room to share in my home on the lake. Grateful for the time with my dad, who I haven’t lived with since I was four. 

So for now, we are in Detroit coming up with the next steps for the difficult journey ahead. For now, we are just trying to take it a single step at a time.

I may not have the words yet, but hopefully, soon we’ll have the actions.