My Dad: The Exception

With Dad's upcoming MRI approaching, and the day where we find out if the tumor has come back around the corner, I'm faced with constant anxiety and fear. I drive to College Station every day for work (45 minutes there, 45 minutes back) and those drives give me a lot of time to think...maybe too much time. I keep thinking of the statistics, I keep thinking about the chances of the tumor returning...but at the end of the day, I've decided that I'm refusing to accept those statistics. Because you see my Dad, my Dad is the exception. 

My Dad started as the exception on his first day on earth- 8/18/1954. My Grandma tells this story- the story of the birth of her baby boy- a story that almost ended with sadness. During the birth of my Dad, something went wrong and the doctor told my Grandpa that he was going to save the mother, but not the baby. It was almost unheard of for a baby to survive something like that in the 1950's, although Dad was born happy and healthy- and my Grandma is here to still tell that story. Statistics show my Dad shouldn't have made it past day 1 on Earth, but clearly he was the exception to that statistic- and he's been the exception many times after...

On Saturday, October 5th Dad suffered a seizure in our kitchen. After a couple of scans and a visit with a Neurologist, we were sent home without any anti-seizure medication. For 4 days I slept on the couch, for 4 days Dad had different moments where he told us he didn't feel right, and for 4 days he did not have another seizure. Why did the tumor cause one and only one seizure? Shouldn't Dad have had another seizure? Or was he once again the exception...

The MRI results came back on October 10th- a brain tumor. We met with the surgeon the following day (Friday) and Dad had another MRI the following week to perform mapping of the tumor for the surgery. Between the time of the first MRI and the second MRI, Dad had developed a large blood clot. A very large blood clot. So large, the doctor initially thought he was removing the tumor, although it was just the blood clot. A blood clot the same size as the tumor. Why didn't the blood clot cause a stroke prior to the surgery? Was Dad again the exception...

After the surgery on October 16th, Dad was in recovery in ICU. We were able to talk with him and he was fully aware and awake- it was such a relief! Although a few moments after Dad talked with the doctor, physical therapy came in to start working with him. The amazing ICU nurse noticed something different with Dad on the right side of his body- something that didn't look right. She immediately called the doctor and another scan was performed, which indicated that Dad was bleeding where the tumor was removed. After a terrifying couple of hours, the surgeon insured us that the bleeding had stopped, although a drain was put in to monitor any additional bleeding. Why did physical therapy come in so soon after his surgery to move him around for the nurse to notice the weakness? Was Dad again the exception...

There are so many "rules" in the medical world, rules that don't seem to apply to Dad. Like I told Mom after a long night with Dad still in ICU- "Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous."

The road to recovery is long- extremely long. With the scan fast approaching, and our fear and anxiety at the forefront of our emotions, I can't help but tell myself that MY Dad is the exception. 

I'm not sure what the results will show at the end of the month and I'm really not sure how I'm going to handle hearing them- but as a Glioblastomia survivor stated: "God will have the final say in how long each one of us lives… and He does not wear a white coat or a green mask."

With only one day of week dedicated to speech therapy (moved from 3 times a week!), Dad is getting back to his old self- working on getting income tax information together and doing things around the house. We are so blessed for our exceptional Dad and Mom- who are truly the rocks of our family. 

Thanks for the thoughts and prayers- and keep them coming!