Dad's lung cancer surgery

When Dad went into the hospital with appendicitis, the X-ray tech spotted an abnormality. After Dad’s appendix was taken out, he went in for a CT scan. A small tumor was found in his left lung.

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April 2, 2005

Dad’s going in for surgery the 14th and I'm leaving town the 13th to be there. Sigh... I'm not looking forward to it, not at all.
The folks got final arrangements in order and paid for, as well as wills written and signed. They've put me in charge should they both go. Max, Bob and Anita don't know and will have an absolute shit fit when they find out. Sigh... Max told them that they should sell their house, give the money to Max and Joe, who would buy a duplex and mom and Dad could have half. Sigh… and max would have 100% control over when they wanted to leave, when they eat meals, she'd shove JW <Jehovah's Witnesses> down their throats and my folks would go completely bonkers.

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It was my FATHER who wanted me as second on Power of Attorney paperwork.

REMEMBER THIS FOR LATER!!! It will come into play later on in the story.

I don’t have any journal entries of when he was in the hospital, but I do have some pretty clear memories:

Bob insisted on driving Dad to the hospital in a motor home, which couldn’t be pulled into the parking garage. Because of that, Dad had to walk into the hospital instead of being pushed in a wheelchair. He was very winded and tired from that. I felt so bad for him.

Bob was a huge asshole at mealtimes, telling us we were fat and that we should eat less and “Some days all I eat is a handful of nuts and look how healthy *I* am!” Then he would go off to smoke pot and when he came back, would buy junk food out of the vending machines and gulp it down. But that was okay because “I walk SEVEN MILES A DAY on the treadmill!”

Bob said that my dad never worked a hard, honest day in his life. Having lived with the man for 19 years, I know this to be untrue. My Dad worked hard to keep a roof over our head and food in our bellies. Dad worked for the cable TV company. I know he had to climb poles and dig ditches to hook people up to cable. He was with this company for over 25 years.

Maxine argued with me about Easter, insisting that Jesus died on a torture stake, not a cross. I finally said to her, “You’re missing the point. HE DIED. HE DIED FOR US!” 

then I got up and went to sit with Dad in his ICU room.

The ICU nurse told my mother to stay out of Dad’s room because he would wake up, see her and get agitated. He would try to pull out his breathing tube so he could talk to her. The nurse hesitated when I asked if I could sit with Dad, but when he saw that Dad actually relaxed every time he woke up and saw me, he was happy for me to be in there.

Whenever Maxine and Bob started in, I would grab my stuff and go sit with dad. It finally got to the point where I wouldn’t even stay out in the waiting area, just go straight to Dad’s room. 

Dad wanted to do chemo after the surgery, but the doctors were afraid that the treatment would kill him. He was pretty fragile at this point. He only lasted another year and four months.