Rearing it's Ugly Head

Today, my dad was supposed to have a surgical procedure done to remove another -- yes, another -- tumor in his throat.

My dad had cancer on his tonsil when I was 14 years old. I don't remember it all very clearly . . . but the tumor was significant, the cancer was stage 4 (out of 5), and the radiation treatments that followed his radical neck dissection were monstrous. I think I have been spared those memories . . . Divine intervention allows me to only remember bits and pieces of that whole experience.

For more than 10 years that followed, my dad's throat was fine. Then, in December 2006, another tumor was found, this time on his voice box. That tumor was of a different nature . . . dangerously close to blocking his airway, millimeters away from requiring the removal of his larynx. Again, he was spared. He was able to have lasers remove that tumor, no radiation or chemo, and he's been hanging in there ever since. After two stays in the hospital and about 2 months time, the tumor was gone. Again, we tried to move on.

Then, just last month, another tumor was found. My dad knew that something was bothering his throat . . . he described it as feeling like you constantly need to swallow something stuck in your throat. This tumor is smaller in nature, and just above the scars from one tumor of 2006. We don't yet know if this one is cancer.

Today, the plan was to go in, take out the tumor, and test it for malignancy. It was not supposed to be a huge procedure -- hopefully with a laser again, probably just one night in the hospital then back home to recover. Instead, they put my dad to sleep, his blood pressure tanked, and -- apparently -- he stopped breathing for a period of a minute or two. He's OK now, thank God. He's resting in recovery -- I talked to him a little bit ago -- and he's probably going to stay over night in the hospital. The doctors want to have a cardiologist come in to make sure his heart is OK, and they want to do an MRI . . . all in the name of finding out why his blood pressure dropped so dangerously low. The surgery will be rescheduled for sometime in a week or two.

My poor dad. He does not deserve this, in light of ALL he's been through with these health issues.

I hope he can get some rest . . . although, if you've ever stayed in the hospital, you know it's quite hard to actually rest. They come in so much to check on you . . . in and out, in and out. I hope he goes home tomorrow so that he can actually rest and gear up for another go around with this.

Damn cancer. Rearing it's ugly head again. UGH.