Thinking about my dad.

On September 14, 1995, Jeff and I were asked by my mom to go to our house in Flad to check on dad. He wasn't answering the phone and had been to the doctor earlier that day for a working and X-rays. We got there and found him on the couch bed he had folded out. He was so weak he couldn't climb the stairs one flight to get to bed. I called mom, called my sister and we decided to drive him to the hospital. Deaconess emergency room. I wish we had taken him to SLU. Gah. They checked him out in the ER and gathered all of us around to go over his X-rays and apparent MRI from his doc's office and it showed multiple golf ball sized tumors in his liver. I knew it was cancer. Dangit! He was 49 years old, heavy 3 pack a day smoker and a heavy beer drinker. This was not good. He had plurecy a few years before, he had a battle of melanoma on his neck/ear too. Not good news. After more tests, admitting him and stabilizing him, we learned he had maras tatie cancer in his lungs, liver and bone. 

We miss him so much. He lived from diagnosis of Sept14th to December 15th, 1995 when he took his last breath. 

I cannot believe I am younger then him when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. This BRCA2 hormone driven cancer. Ugh.