Facing Death

We are all going to die. But if given the choice,  would you choose to know when "it"  would happen??

In 1990, my dad developed type 2 diabetes.  His stressful lifestyle took a severe toll on him - leaving his pancreas in an alarmingly poor condition.  His doctors told him that he only had 18 years to live.  My dad was 43 years-old with a wife and 3 young kids. I can only imagine what a scary and surreal moment that must have been for him.  And while others in a similar situation may have opted to "live life to the fullest" -  Jose D. Tumambing continued on the same path that he's followed since he was 7 years-old:  he buckled down and focused on the future of his family.

He never told us about his prognosis.

The decade to follow proved to be very challenging for our entire family. There were several moments when we all feared for the future of our brood. But once the dust cleared,  the foundation that my parents painstakingly worked to establish still remained. All we had to do was build up from there. Brick-by-brick ... everything to fell into place.  And before we knew it,  an edifice - bolstered by each member of our family - surrounded us. We were whole, strong and more unified than ever.

We even managed to add on to our clan: :)

We spent every weekend together - celebrating our family and a future filled with happiness beyond our wildest dreams. It was clear to all of us that the troubles we overcame only strengthened our bond - and bridged all gaps. Life was getting sweeter by the minute. 

Then the proverbial "other shoe" dropped.

On June 7th, 2013, - one week before Father's Day and 23 years (not 18!!) after his initial prognosis - the news that's haunted my dad finally reared its' ugly head. A series of recurring issues and unexplained weight loss prompted tests.  All of the results came back frustratingly inconclusive. My dad insisted that more needed to be done - pushing for deeper testing.  Finally a CT scan yielded results that changed life as we knew it. It revealed 2 masses: one at the tail of his pancreas - and a smaller one in his liver. (A later PET scan revealed tumors throughout his pancreas, his liver, his kidneys and lungs.) The doctor told my parents that had adenocarcinoma- stage IVB pancreatic cancer. It was metastatic, extremely aggressive and will most-likely take his life sooner than later. The end could come at any time - going from several months to mere weeks. The 2nd, 3rd and 4th opinions all supported the diagnosis. We were crushed.- feeling sadness at a cellular level. I know that it will only get worse from here - but I can't even wrap my head around what that means yet.

AMAZING GRACE

Now nearly a month after the CT findings, he is enduring the side effects this horrible disease: headaches, back and stomach pains, digestive issues and fatigue. My dad is trying very hard to maintain a positive facade - smiling and laughing with his grandkids - trying to enjoy this precious time with unbelievable grace.  In spite of his pain, my dad is completely focused on protecting us. When he isn't in pain, he is feverishly working in his home office, making college fund arrangements for his grandkids and securing my mom. I can only pray to have an ounce of his courage.

*gulp*

All that I can do is to be here for both of my parents. To offer support - even if only in the form of bringing my Kimchix to reek havoc at their house. Tonight we are heading to their home for the 4th of July holiday.  We're staying for 4 days and coming armed with stomach-friendly ingredients. It's so funny bec. all I want to do is feed him. It must be the Filipino in me. :) I guess it's just easier to do that than to figure out a way to convey a lifetime's worth of love in (what feels like) a minute.

If you pray, please pray for a miracle. But knowing what we know, I would settle for the hope that my dad won't be wrought with pain during his final days. If you don't pray, please consider making an exception for my dad. He is worth it. 

In an effort to honor my dad and to help others, I intend on updating info about our journey through this blog. It'll help avoid repetition while allowing me an outlet to vent. In the meantime, please go to www.pancan.org for more information on pancreatic cancer. The statistics are awful!

I will soon post about our participation in the upcoming PurpleStrideOC later this Nov. Look out for Team Jogging for Joe. :) I hope we can count on your support to help find a cure for this awful disease.  

Know it. Fight it. End it. ---- Love you, Dad!!! 

P.S.

Hug your loved ones!