November 6 - Dad's Gone

We knew our time with our dad was coming to a close, but we thought we had a few more weeks.  Nothing could have prepared us for the shock of losing him so traumatically Sunday night.  Those of us who witnessed his physical pain are still struggling to come to terms with it.  However, after medical intervention finally allowed him to go to sleep, we had a peaceful and spiritual five hours with Dad before he died at 11:37 PM. 

In the days since then we have been busy, as a family finishing preparations for the funeral and burial, preparations which were begun by Mom and Dad before he passed.  I'm not sure how individuals with small families manage to accomplish all that needs to be done prior to the funeral.  Mom and all of kids have been busy with various tasks, which has likely been a blessing for now.  We have been overwhelmed by the outpouring of support we have received from so many.  We are grateful for food, babysitting, kind words, and shared memories. 

There will be a viewing this Friday night from 7:00 to 9:00 at McINNIS & HOLLOWAY’S Crowfoot Chapel (82 Crowfoot Circle N.W.).  The funeral will be this Saturday, November 9th at 11:00 at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Bow Valley Chapel (2526 – 24 Avenue N.W. - on Crowchild Trail, just north of McMahon Stadium). 

Our family would appreciate if you would wear a poppy to Dad's funeral in honour of our fallen soldiers. Dad loved to tell stories of brave Canadian soldiers and wore a poppy with pride every Remembrance Day.

To read Dad's extended obituary go to: http://www.mhfh.com/blumell-john/.

October 25th - A New Normal

The month of October has brought many changes for my Dad's health.  During the last week of September my parents went to Fairmont with good friends.  The last day there Dad started feeling quite a bit worse than usual.  He ended up having a bowel blockage.  He spent a couple days in the hospital during the first week of October.  We were all very relieved when we discovered that his partial bowel blockage was from an adhesion rather than from a cancerous mass.  Eighty to 85% of adhesions clear up on their own and that is what happened with that one.  Although my parents arrived a day late, our family counted it as a miracle that Dad was able to join us in Montana for a much anticipated family vacation.  All of my parents' children and grand-children were there and we had a wonderful time!

While we were in Montana we realized we were now dealing with a "new normal".  Dad only had a limited amount of energy in the day and he spent much of his days curled up on the couch with his eyes closed while chaos reigned around him, but he loved every second of it.  He did manage to exert enough energy to join us whenever we did one of our planned family activities.  However, towards the end of the week he was extremely dehydrated and at one point he seemed to have another adhesion.  Dehydration and adhesions/bowel blockages have been our two biggest challenges ever since Montana.  In the end, Mom and Dad left a day early and went to the first hospital they came to in Canada to get Dad hydrated again.  Then they went on to Calgary that night and Dad went to the Peter Lougheed Hospital the next day for more hydration.  From there arrangements were made to have a home care nurse come into the home daily to administer fluid directly into Dad's muscle tissue at home.  However, this process is tedious and Dad can only get one litre of fluid every 24 hours. He hates being hooked up to an IV 24/7, so, Dad's doctor set him up to go to the Tom Baker Centre 3X a week to get 2 litres of IV fluids each time.  That was this week, but by Friday, Dad wasn't doing well.  He had another blockage (which is actually the fourth partial blockage he seems to have had).  My parents talked to Dad's oncologist and she said to go straight to the ER, so they did that instead of going for fluids.  Dad was admitted to the PLC (Peter Lougheed Centre) last night and he is back on Unit 44, with all his favorite nurses. Just before my parents walked out the door to head to the hospital, Scott and Kirsten walked in.  My parents didn't know they were coming up from Idaho for the weekend, so that was a great surprise.  Jason, Jen, and Laura are also spending time in Calgary throughout the weekend, so Mom and Dad have a houseful and everyone is taking turns being at the hospital.  Last night was pretty rough, but Dad is feeling quite a bit better today.  His adhesion may have relaxed a bit, as has happened multiple times now.  

We know we're at the beginning of the end, but we don't know how long that ending will take.  There are still things we want to do.  For example, every second I can get with my Dad, I have been interviewing him and trying to write down his life story.  I'm only to 1979, so I have quite a bit more to go.  Right now, we are requesting that anyone who wants to come see Dad try to do so on weekdays, as we are trying to reserve weekends for my siblings who are coming in from out of town.  If you are able to visit, short visits are best (less than half an hour).  As one of Dad's doctor's said, "The right 10 minutes conversation can often be more valuable than a 2 hour conversation."  It is also generally a good idea if you call first, before you come for a visit.  Hopefully Dad will be out of the hospital soon, though I'm assuming he won't be out today.  

September 30 - Still doing well...

At the Terry Fox Run.

All of the bad news in August really took the wind out of my sails, so after taking the month of September to get used to our new reality, I am ready to write another update about my Dad.  My Dad is now undergoing chemotherapy treatments every couple of weeks or so.  He is on a very low dose of only one chemo drug (chemo patients often have a multiple drug cocktail).  He has responded okay so far.  His already high output does go up with chemo (which would be expected), but with my Dad the doctors have to keep a close eye on that.  During his most recent chemo treatment my Dad was also put in intravenous and that helped him to not be so dehydrated after the chemo.  When he starts to get dehydrated you can really hear it in his voice and he sounded better this time round.  Sadly this most recent treatment was the first time that my Dad was nauseous enough to throw up and he has definitely felt under the weather, but he seems to recover after a few days.

As far as pain management goes, I don't remember the names of the various drugs the doctors prescribe, but they are definitely helping.  On a good day, my Dad is at about a 3 out of 10 for pain.  On a bad day, or when medicine is wearing off, he can get up to a 7 out of 10 for pain.  Of course my Dad's entire pain scale is a little off as he seems to handle pain better and rate it lower than the average person.

As if cancer isn't bad enough, my Dad's Crohn's Disease seems to have come back.  He has now had appointments with Crohn's doctor's on top of his numerous appointments and tests for cancer.  He seems to be at the Tom Baker Cancer Clinic or a doctor's office or a hospital multiple times a week.  My Mom is on a leave of absence from work and so she is able to be with him for all his appointments. 

Last week was the Terry Fox Run in schools and lots of grandkids were running for Papa John.  My parents were able to come and be there when both of my boys did their Terry Fox Run. 

Other highlights from the past month include the 30th Anniversary of my parents Rook Club.  It was hosted at my parents house and my parents were able to enjoy a great night with life long friends.  Then a couple weeks ago was my oldest son's baptism where my Dad was able to be one of the speakers.  He gave a wonderful talk on baptism.  This past weekend was the baby blessing of Jason's first child, Kaleb.  We are so happy to have Dad at all of these milestones and to have him in health that is good enough to allow him to participate.

August 16 - MRI Results

Today my parents went to the oncologist (and I tagged along) to get the results of my Dad's MRI of his head, which was done on Wednesday.  Because of the numbness in his lip and chin there it was assumed that there would be a tumour pushing on a nerve somewhere (and we feared that it could have spread to the lining of his brain).  Well, for about the first time yet in this cancer journey, we had a doctor's appointment with good news - there was no visible cancer!!! (Note - we are just talking about his head here - the other cancer is still there.)  This was great news though, because we did not want to hear one more piece of information that would imply we have even less time with Dad.

As a matter of fact, my Dad is starting chemotherapy on Monday.  This is not a life preserving measure, but it is hoped that it will be a life extending measure.  The doctors exact words were, "This could give you a reprieve for a month or several months."  The doctor emphasized that we shouldn't be too optimistic about time, but at this point, we'll take what we can get!

August 13 - A Night to Remember

Note: For some reasons, the pictures seem to take a few minutes to load.  

Last night (August 13th) was my parents 36th wedding anniversary.  Us kids wanted to give them a night they would never forget.  Katie was the one who started everything, but soon others joined in and helped contribute to this anniversary surprise.  

An over-sized limo picked up my parents at their house and took them to four different stops.  For each stop there was a goofy poem and a scrapbook page.  There was a gift basket in the limo for my parents to enjoy a few snacks or drinks between stops.  The first stop was Churchill high school where my parents first started dating and fell in love.  Next was the spot downtown where my Dad proposed.  When he proposed way back then it wasn't much of an official proposal.  Mom and Dad had picked out the ring together and as soon as it arrived my Dad rushed downtown to meet my mom on her lunch break (she was working at a bank) and he gave her the ring.  Sadly, my Mom could never really wear the ring because it made her break out in a rash - it was years before she discovered she had a nickel allergy.  Last night when they went back to the same spot, my dad pulled out a new ring that he purchased for her recently.  It is more or less nickel-free and she said it was the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen.  

The stop after that was at Riley Park, where my parents first had their wedding photos taken 36 years ago.  This time good friends took the photos for them and provided a picnic snack.  The last stop was at the house we grew up in, in Beddington. After that the limo drove my Mom and Dad home, where "The Four Sisters" restaurant was waiting for them.  When they walked in the door, their wedding dance song was playing, "Hooked on a Feeling".  Then they ate supper and all six kids showed up (two of us via Facetime on the cell phones) and sang our own take on "My Favorite Things".  My parents were very surprised to see Jen and Laura in from out of town, just to make the big night happen.  The final touch for the evening was to create a moment my Dad was hoping would happen at his 50th Wedding Anniversary.  He wanted to sing the Alan Jackson song to my Mom there.  Instead, he was handed the lyrics and the music came up.  He tried to sing, but he was too emotional, so my parents danced instead.  If you don't know the song, check out the music video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTA2buWlNyM

August 7 - PET Scan Results (Not a good day)

Throughout this journey with cancer, my dad seems to get bad news one little step at a time. Every time he talks to a doctor it’s just a little bit more bad news.  The latest news is no exception.  Last Wednesday my dad’s lower lip and chin started going numb.  The next morning when he woke up they were still numb.  Wondering if she should call the doctor or the dentist, my Mom googled “numb lower lip and chin” while she was at work. She was shocked when every result indicated that this was most often a complication of cancer which is moving rapidly through the body.  The Internet told us that unless aggressive treatment is undertaken immediately, the person has about a year to live.  My dad called the oncologist and left a message. 

The oncologist called back the next day.  She had results from the CT scan done along with last week’s PET scan, but the PET scan results weren't in yet.  The CT scan showed that the cancer was spreading fast and she told my dad the news that no one wants to hear.  The cancer is not curable.  In a typical patient, with some treatment they might have 12 to 18 months to live.  However, because of the complications of Crohn’s disease that my dad is dealing with, she told him that he would have less than one year to live.  It was a tough weekend for our family, but it feels like this week held even more bad news. 

Today my parents met with the oncologist to review the PET scan.  Cancer in his bowel area has continued to grow, as we already knew.  On top of that there is cancer in the lining of his abdomen, his prostate, his right hip bone, and the lymph nodes in is right groin.  As well, there are two spots on his lungs that look suspicious.  The numbness in his lip and chin means that there is cancer in the jawbone pressing on a nerve.  An MRI of his head has been scheduled for next week.  If that’s not enough, my dad’s Crohn’s disease is active again in the part of his intestine leading to his ostomy.  The oncologist will be consulting with her colleagues to determine if my dad can be given small doses of chemotherapy.  However, if this happens it will only be one type of chemotherapy and half the regular dose, because the oncologist says my dad’s body won’t be able to handle more than that. 

Today the oncologist was surprised to see my dad looking and feeling as good as he was.  Those of us who know him well are not surprised to hear this from her.  Nurses and doctors tell us regularly how my dad seems to have a much higher ability to tolerate pain and suffering than the average person.  At this point, my dad is, indeed, in a lot of pain.  He has experienced pain while sitting for more than a year.  The surgery in May was an attempt to put an end to that, and would have been successful if not for the cancer.  At this point, my dad is in more pain sitting than ever before.  Now he is also experiencing pain while he is standing. 

I have tried to be fairly clinical in these blog posts.  I have also withheld a few negative details at times, in order to give our family time to absorb more bad news before making everything public.  Therefore I haven’t written much in here about how my dad or the rest of us are feeling, but here goes:

My dad has always been the eternal optimist and facing cancer hasn't changed that a bit.  July 12^th, after my parents had an appointment with Dr. Datta, many in our family came to terms with the fact that my dad’s condition might well be terminal.  My dad accepted that too, but he figured the cancer might get him some time in the next five to seven years.  On Friday when the oncologist told my dad that he would have less than a year he told himself he would have 12 to 18 months.  I think this positive mental self-talk is part of what helps him be so healthy and strong, all things considered.  However, today the doctor told my dad that he can expect a serious decline in his health sometime in the next couple months.  That was very hard for him to hear.  He’s been trying so hard to hold out hope and it just keeps getting crushed. 

Time has become incredibly precious.  All of those clichés about facing the end of your life are suddenly, blindingly true.  Suddenly you realize what the most important things are. Every second has to count.  As children losing our father, my siblings and I have been in a flurry of activity to try and plan special moments.  We have talked on the phone for hours now about what our parents mean to us and how we can help them and what we should be doing.  One thing I have realized about terminal illnesses is that the rest of life marches on.  This is proving to be a huge challenge.  At the end of this month Scott and Kirsten (who have been living with my parents this summer) have to go back to school in Idaho.  Laura and Chris are moving to a new house.  Jason and Melissa are expecting their first baby August 22nd (and babies come when they are ready to come, whether we are planning on doing family pictures that day or not!)  Jen, Laura and I have to somehow have all our older kids ready for the first day of school.  It all just keeps going.  I sort of want the whole world to stop turning for a little while so I can say a proper good-bye to my dad, so we can give him the perfect send-off during the months we have left.  I am starting to feel frantic that there isn't time for everything we want to do.  My poor parents have hardly had any time together since my dad’s surgery in May.  The hardest part of this entire thing is watching my mom have to deal with this.  This is so hard on her.  Her and my dad celebrate their 36^th wedding anniversary next Tuesday.  Thirty-six years seems like a long time, but it isn't nearly long enough. 

Last Thursday, after hearing the latest bad news about my dad’s health, his older brother Richard called him up and said, “We need to go to Missoula.”  When my dad was about six and Richard thirteen, they spent the summer in Missoula while their dad was down there working on his doctorate.  One day little Johnny found a nickel and used it to buy a plane at a hobby shop.  As he and Richard were walking home, Richard told Johnny he should throw the plane off of the bridge they were walking over.  Johnny protested, saying he had hardly even played with the plane yet and he didn't want to throw it away, but Richard insisted.  He said, “If you throw that plane off this bridge it will be gone, but it will be the flight of a lifetime, a flight you will never forget.”  So, Johnny threw the plane off the bridge and it did one loopdy-loop, and then another, and then it came back towards the bridge, swooped under it and turned around and flew back out.  Finally the plane descended gracefully into the river and floated away.  Over the years my dad has given Richard a hard time for convincing him to throw his plane away and Richard always replies with a sparkle in his eye, “But you never forgot that flight, did you?”  So, tomorrow my dad and my uncle Richard, along with their wives, are driving to Missoula to throw a few balsam wood toy planes off that bridge. 

July 25 - MRI Results

My dad met with the doctor yesterday to get a painkiller to help him deal with the pain in his rear end.  There has been some concern that the pain there could be cancer returning quite quickly.  While meeting with the doctor, my parents were also given the results of the MRI.  The MRI did indeed show “thickening” in my dad’s bowels, which is a likely indication that cancer is growing there.  A biopsy is being scheduled to confirm if this is cancer.  The PET scan on the 31^st should also give us more information.

I also went with my dad yesterday to Peter Lougheed hospital to meet with a nurse there who was trying to help my dad figure out a better way of dealing with his ostomy, which has been leaking quite a bit.  Hopefully her ideas will be helpful. 

On a more personal note, I have spent some time with my dad this past week, and he is very upbeat and positive.  Dealing with all of his health issues right now is definitely a hard thing, but he hasn't let it affect his attitude.  He can be in a lot of pain when sitting, but he never complains. 

Many family members and friends will be having a fast for my dad on Sunday, August 4.  We’d love your support if you are able to include our dad in your fasting and prayers that day.
 

Grammy Barb and Papa John with the grandkids (Summer 2010)