The following blog is written by WEWS Managing Editor Jim Scott sharing his experiences about his father who is dying of cancer.

Jim will provide daily updates.

You may e-mail him your comments.

Previous Blogs: Entry One

---

I got the call I'd dreaded.

My family told me Dad had something like a stroke and was being taken to a hospital.

When I called my mother I found her to be more broken up than I'd ever remembered. I think the reality was setting in that her husband of almost 60 years may not be coming back home. This tough old guy was breaking down before our eyes, but he wasn't going quietly.

No, dad was fighting this thing with ever ounce of energy he had left. Tragically, there wasn't much energy left.

I started playing over and over in my mind the many conversations Pop and I had, and in the past year there were many. I let my dad talk. I just listened.

I didn't interrupt unless he needed to catch a breath, that lung disease and the cancer were taking their toll. His stories were ones I'd never heard; things I couldn't even remember, but I knew he wasn't making this stuff up.

The great thing about my dad is that he was never one to preach, nor did he pry into your personal life unless you invited him in. If you asked, he'd give you an opinion, but he did respect your right to make mistakes in life. He always told me that if I fell remember, "I'll be there to pick you up."

Right now, I feel like I'm falling and he doesn't have the energy to pick me up. The walls feel like they're closing in as I worry about Dad, and my mom; Oh, did I mention that she too has lung cancer and has put off her radiation to take care of him?

Years of smoking caused this, but they never blamed cigarettes. They blamed only themselves. They said bad habits were a choice and they both made a bad choice. By the time they quit smoking it was too late. So imagine that, two of the people I love most in the world may not see the rest of this year.

I worry that if he goes first she may not have the strength to go on, and if she goes first, then I know he won't make. He's told me that.

Add all of that to a high stress job hours away from Dad and Mom, and my wife and kids. Getting through each day takes a special kind of skill. I'm tough, Marine Corps tough, but there are days when even that's not enough. I get through them in private because that's what my dad taught me how to do.

He said you never talk about your problems in public, "it's your business and you'll get through it by faith." I know he's right, but there's a heaviness on my heart that just won't go away.

The hospital put him in a private room in an area where critically ill patients go, but there doesn't seem to be much happening. Why does it feel like hospital staffs just don't have the commitment they used to?

His head nurse is wonderful, thanks goodness for her. Still, there are some healthcare workers who make you wonder why they chose the medical profession.

Wait until I tell you about the Hospice care.

That'll come later, and you'll want to pay close attention because I may be able to help you one day. Yep, all of us will have to deal with extended care for a loved one sooner, if not later.

I told Mom and my wife that I couldn't get there before the weekend, but my new boss reminded me that the job would be there when I got back.

She said my dad may not.

Problem is I heard my dad's voice in my head, that darn work ethic of his saying "go to work and give it your all" I could hear him reacting to my wanting to take two days off to get to his bedside. He'd have told me to wait until the weekend. I just couldn't wait this time. Sorry Pop.

A stroke got him years ago. At the time, I was going to Paris for two weeks, but wanted to cancel because he was sick. With every ounce of energy he had left he asked if I was being paid for the trip and I said "yes" he asked if it could be rescheduled, I said "no" and he said "Go ahead and make the money. I'll see you when you get back. If I don't make it I'll see you again one day anyway."

I went to Paris, and he was there when I got back; still very sick, but there nonetheless.

These days when I leave his bedside, I can't be sure he'll be there when I get back. I never say goodbye. I kiss him on the forehead and say see you later Pop. "I love you." He always replys weakly "yea, I know."

The hospital told us, that his sodium level was too low and that it may have been responsible for the seizure he suffered causing stroke like symptoms. He also seemed confused and out of touch with reality; they said that was another symptom. His breathing is terrible -- he's so weak -- and he can't seem to stay awake for any long period of time.

I watched him sleep, all the while asking God to keep him from suffering, to let him go peacefully if that's his will.

With every prayer, Pop opened his eyes while I sat by the bed. He recognized me, and his only questions were "How's the job going?" and if this is not Friday, "Why are you away from the job again?"

He told me to get his credit card from Mom to buy a tankful of gasoline. He said "you can't keep spending money going back and forth." Only my dad would say something like that. I bought my own gas, but did fillup "his" car. It was strictly symbolic because his car is just sitting in front of his apartment building.

Remember, I took his keys away, but if my mom can just look out the window at "his" car she may get some comfort. I'll probably start driving it because those four cylinder cars are really good on gas!

I'm wondering where the heck the doctors are? What are all these tests? It's no wonder we hear that Medicaire might not be around for many more years. Dad and Mom do have private insurance, but Medicare pays first. That really doesn't make much sense to me, and no one seems to be able to explain it. You should see their mailbox.

Every day, piles of bills paid by Medicare for countless tests and procedures. Don't get me wrong, I want my folks to live forever and believe they should have the best medical care possible, but sometimes I question whether senior citizens are being used as testers, or is the system purposely draining itself.

See you next time.