So, yesterday, dad got as much of an 'all clear' as he's likely going to get.
As I said upthread, he was diagnosed with lung cancer - stage 3b, which is late - in late March. He began concurrent chemotherapy and radiation treatments in May. The course was 12 chemo treatments and 33 straight radiation. "I know why it's exactly 33 radiation" he said. "Because 34 would kill you."
After that, and for much of the summer, it was a waiting game as his platelet count dipped very low and he was plagued with the chronic fatigue that radiation brings.
Then, six weeks ago, he had a stroke. It was likely brought about by his being taken off his blood thinners because of the platelet issue. It was, to date, the most frightening 12 hours of my life. At ten a.m, he couldn't see, could barely speak and couldn't walk. By ten p.m, he was as right as rain and complaining about hospital food. A shot across the bow if ever there was one.
And yesterday he learned that the cancer hasn't spread anywhere else, that the existing mass is still shrinking, and that he doesn't need any more treatment for the foreseeable future. He'll need to go for frequent follow up visits for, likely, the rest of his life.
If nothing else, it's made me appreciate him (and mom) so much more. We talk on the phone two or three nights a week. He ends his calls with "I love you" and every dinner we have with them feels like as big a deal as Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, even if it's just burgers.
Just a great reminder that sometimes these things turn out better than we'd expected.
