This is a question my son repeatedly asks me.
Doctors can fix anything EXCEPT MY DADDY!!! |
Approximately half a million people will die from cancer in 2012 in the United States. My husband - the father of my babies is now part of that statistic. I originally wrote half a billion and had a friend correct me on my faux paus "B". It's all the same to me. Might as well be a Gabillion!
How is it possible in the "New Millennium", that my husband is diagnosed with cancer on February 17, 2011 and is dead by January 21, 2012?
Some of my sons questions:
- "Why didn't you take Dad to a different doctor? Like one in Kansas or something?"
Daddy's cancer.
Lastly, I promise to allow you to say "I hate fucking cancer" at will. It's the least I can do after it killed your Daddy.
- "Why wasn't their medicine for Dad's cancer?" This is a harder question to answer.
- "Why haven't they."
- "Then you didn't do all you could to help Dad."
I feel that as well. Why wasn't their something that could be done? I remember in August, 2011 the doctor told me alone that, "We are going to try to get Eric to his birthday." "His birthday is in January," I said. "What about my children's birthday and my birthday. "We'll try Alyce. That's the best we can do."
The system or something failed my family. An otherwise perfectly healthy man died of cancer. Up until the day before he died his blood pressure was 112/60 - no temperature - he could speak - and he could hug and kiss us. And just like the doctor predicted - it would be like falling off a cliff. My husband actually died of cancer. Not pneumonia, not organ failure, but cancer. It invaded his body and took over. There was no "fight" against this cancer. It was a slaughter. My husband didn't stand a chance. With that said, he took different medicines that were part of trials and both failed. THE SYSTEM FAILED.
The most "sophisticated" healthcare system in the world. |
"Are you going to get sick and die Mommy?" "Of course I won't honey." My son paused and then said, "But Daddy did, how do you know?" His face got all crumpled up looking and then just sad and scared looking. I realized I was making a promise I knew I couldn't keep. What if I got some sickness that had "NO CURE?"
I now need to live my life more carefully. It's important that I stay alive. I guess it's always important to not die early, but now it's really important. My children would then be orphans. That's a fairly weighty responsibility. I'm not one who chases danger but sometimes accidents happen. Well, my children can't afford a freak accident to happen to me.
Dear Children,
- I promise to take the best care of myself that I can.
- I promise to push my doctors to test me for random stuff that NEVER happens until it happens to the daddy of your children.
- I promise to envelope you with the love of two people even though I am only one.
- I promise to keep you on a path to a new normal - that will still seem like the old normal. Full of love, laughter, and a feeling of security.
- I promise we will talk about and to daddy all of the time.
- I promise to love you with all that I have and then some.
Lastly, I promise to allow you to say "I hate fucking cancer" at will. It's the least I can do after it killed your Daddy.