The author is trying to focus on living in the moment with her father.
Courtesy of Lindsay Karp
Nothing warned me of the news that awaited at home as I climbed the hill from my bus stop on a Tuesday in the final months of my senior year of high school. Two cars in the driveway were the first sign that the sunny skies above were simply teasing me. Entering the doorway, my father met me. His words turned the bright day dark."I have cancer," he said. "But I'm going to be OK." His certainty that a rocky period of treatment would lead to smoother, healthier days was reassuring. But fear settled deep within me, and it never fully dissipated.He started treatment for stage 4 tongue cancerStage 4 tongue cancer had silently spread to the lymph nodes in his neck. The next few months were filled with appointments for radiation treatments, chemotherapy, and finally, a neck dissection to surgically remove his lymph nodes.In the thick of treatment, swallowing became challenging, and fatigue replaced his spark. He continued working, taking naps in the afternoons as needed. For the first time, I saw the strongest person in my life vulnerable and delicate. Moving cautiously into my final months of childhood, a cloud hovered over me through final exams, a senior class trip to Disney, and finally prom. I learned to endure a nightmare.He survived, but the fear of losing him continued following me like a shadow, every now and then reminding me that life can collapse on a sunny Tuesday.Treatment worked, but had lasting effectsThe treatment saved him and gave us years of memories. From high school graduation to college and graduate school commencements, I never forgot how I almost lost him. Walking down the aisle on my wedding day, my parents by my side, I remembered again that I was indebted to the universe for giving me what it knew I could never live without. And watching him be a grandfather to my boys for the last 14 years, I couldn't imagine who they would be without his calm reactions, repetitive humor, and exemplary advice. They'll be better men for having known him.Over the last few years, the damage caused by radiation has worsened. From untreatable labile blood pressure from damage to his carotid artery, to an inability to swallow, to a hoarsened voice making communication effortful, to nerve damage limiting his arm use, there's not much that the radiation didn't touch.
