Cancer rears its ugly head--again

Warning: this post will be both personal and somewhat political in nature.

This time cancer came in threes. Not my favorite way to see it appear. I don't even like to hear of it once let alone three times. First it happened when I hear of my sweet friend and favorite teacher Kathy McIntosh being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few weeks ago. Her long term prognosis isn't good. Her doctor doubts she will live two years. Of course, pancreatic cancer is seemingly unbeatable; even Steve Jobs and Patrick Swayze couldn't beat it with all of their connections and money. I was heartbroken to hear the news.

Then last week we got word from our Scottish family that my Aunt Susan (my dad's sister) who is 84 has lung cancer which has also spread to other areas. While I do not know her well, I have some distinct memories of her visits when I was a child, and I have had the lovely privilege of being her friend on FB and hearing from her every once in a while.

Then the biggest bomb came yesterday when my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer which has also spread to his pelvic bone and spine. We find this out in the same week that marks the 11th anniversary of my mother's death. My dad hasn't been feeling well for several months, but because he doesn't have health insurance nor has he ever signed up for Medicare, he couldn't just go to a doctor and get things checked out without quickly incurring large bills. Yes, he should have signed up for Medicare three years ago, but this is my dad we are talking about, and he thinks he will live forever.

Let me backtrack for a moment. My dad has prostate cancer which has spread to his bones. It's like this horrible sense of deja vu for me. 15 years ago my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer which had spread to bones. The horrible sense of irony in this for me is that both of my parents initially had cancer of a type that when caught early have high rates of success for treatment and cure. But both failed to do routine medical screenings that would have caught the cancer before it had spread, and we know what the end result was for my mom. The outcome for my dad? Well, I wouldn't be surprised if there really is no chance for a cure but instead a hope that it can be controlled to allow him to live for a number of years more.

And this is where my political self comes in. My parents and their situations are a direct result of having no health insurance. They represent the plight of the uninsured in this country. Without insurance and little money to pay out of pocket, they didn't get care they needed. Frankly, I think that everyone is going to need health care at one time or another and that it should be a basic right. I would really love to see a universal health care system put in place so that people of any income level can get routine check ups and preventative screenings like prostate tests and mammograms without having to worry about where the money is going to come from to get it done. I'm not saying I'm in the Romney camp or the Obama camp on this one. I am saying, though, that I do think health care should be more of a public entity rather than one of private insurance. Frankly, insurance is a racket in many respects. I just hate that good medical care seems to be a privilege for only some because of income or status. I think of health care like roads; everybody needs it, so it should be something provided for everyone. The government provides roads, and maybe they would do better at establishing health care, too. I know this is an oversimplified analogy--perhaps. But private insurance isn't cutting it.

I grew up in a family without health insurance, and other than the case of my mom, we were lucky that there were no other medical issues to beset us as we were growing up. My husband grew up in similar circumstances. I am grateful that we as a little Norton family have health insurance, although we pay more out of pocket than I would like, but it's a price we will pay in order to avoid the plight of my parents. I have learned some very hard lessons from them.

My mom knew she had a lump in her breast several years before she was diagnosed, but because she had no family history, she was relatively young, represented none of the high risk factors and more than anything had no insurance and a large family of kids with lots of expenses, she didn't go to the doctor to get it checked. Of course, I wish she had. She might very likely be alive today to be a listening ear, to help when I have my babies, and be an awesome grandma. A few weeks ago I got the paperwork I needed to get a mammogram done this year. I'm waiting a bit to let my milk dry up since I am finally done with nursing, but it will be done in the coming months. My mama taught me that lesson even if she didn't do it directly.

The news of my dad's diagnosis was really not that much of a surprise to me. For some reason I suspected something serious from the time I first learned of his symptoms a couple of months ago. My reaction was also different from the news of my mother. I still felt a sense of sadness and kind of like I'd taken a really good hit to the stomach yesterday. But I wasn't overly emotional about it.My relationship with my dad is complicated and strained at best. He drives me crazy most of the time. I will be honest about that. But he's my dad, and he has done some good things in my life for sure. When I talked to him, he seemed to indicate that he was glad to be getting treatment soon so that he could feel better. Sometime this week, an oncologist will call to outline a treatment for him. He'll be receiving treatment through VA services I believe.

I have a feeling the road ahead of him will be harder than he imagines. My mom's road was harder than most of us knew because she was good at masking it. I will never forget coming home unannounced at about 1:30 in the afternoon several months before my mother's death. She was still in bed in her pajamas, and she expressed her regret that I had discovered that was how her days mostly were. We always came home to her dressed so I always believed she got up and got dressed in the morning. Let's face it; she was having chemo and slowly dying of cancer. Most days she would have rather been in bed as much as possible. These were realities my dad never would acknowledge about her condition, and so there was little he knew about how she was really dealing with it.

We shall see how he manages his own journey. I pray for my sister and brother-in-law Matt who will have to help deal with the day to day since he is with them at this point. Dealing with him isn't easy, and so I pray patience and understanding. I pray that for myself as well. Frankly, there is a part of me that wants to tell him that his own lack of doing for himself has brought him to this place, but I know this won't do any good and I just need to care and love. I pray I can do these things.