April 13 - Cancer can suck it

 The reality of it all still has not set in. I still just think he is out in his shop like he always was, fiddling with the truck or having a rum with his friends.

Or its a weekend, and he is away fishing. 

I can't sleep, but when I do, I find myself having conversations with him, or about him, or hes just there somehow. Lingering always in my thoughts.

A few weeks ago, while he was still home, he was getting a 2 am dose of pain meds, and I had gotten up the previous couple nights to help him with that, instead of my mom (or sister) waking up to help.

But on this particular night, I was not going to get up to help, as I had my alarm set really early (5:30 am) to try to go to the pool to swim and get some much needed exercise. So I was not going to wake up at 1:45 am.

I have been sleeping in the room in the basement on the back end of the house. with the door tightly closed, because I like it wintery cold and always open the window to outside as far as it goes. so I keep the door closed to save the rest f the house from the cold.

1:39am - I heard a soft knock on my door. enough to wake me from whatever state of sleep I was in.  I woke immediately and shook the confusion from my tired, exhausted brain. I laid there and wondered what could have made the sound. The house sounded quiet. 

I rolled back over and figured it was just stress, worry, exhaustion. But I was wide awake, wondering how I would get back to sleep.

I heard the knock again. No way I didn't hear it this time. or mistake it for something else, I was already awake. I said " Hello?" and waited.  Nothing. I got up and opened the door, and looked around. Blackness, and silence in the whole house.  I went pee in the bathroom immediately beside where I have been sleeping. The bathroom and my room share a wall.   I slipped back into bed after shutting my bedroom door once again and heard the gentle rap on the door for a third time. 

I dont know how to explain that it could not have been any other sound except a gentle knocking on my bedroom door. But i have no way to explain what it was either. 

I looked at my watch, It was 1:45 am. 

Dad would be waking soon, if he wasn't already awake. Once the previous dose of meds wore off, it was like its own alarm reminding him of the chaos inside his body.

I decided since I was already awake - I could go upstairs and help with the 2 am dose. 

I crept up the stairs in the dark. No lights on the main floor were on either. His room is at the top of the stairs. And we always knew where he was in these days due to the 50ft oxygen cord that followed him around the house. I could see it leading into his room from down the hall where we kept the loud machine in a different room.   I turned on the light  for the landing right outside his and moms room. Its enough light that I could help him, without turning the lights on in his room. 

I walked into the room, my mom was sound asleep beside him. He was sound asleep as well. But as I crept gingerly across the room to not wake my mother, I saw the oxygen cord, 8 - 10 feet away from Dad. on the floor leading out of the room.  I picked it up, wondering how long he had been without it. (He didnt need it at this point to sustain life, but it certainly helped with comfort in breathing)

As I stepped to the side of his bed, he woke up. Mom still sleeping

"Hi BooBoo"

"Hi Daddy, its time for your next dose"

He saw me holding the oxygen cord.

"Where was my oxygen? I couldn't reach it" 

"Dad, it was way over by the door, did you get up to go to the washroom?"

"Yes, I think I did" ( he had been getting more confused, and had difficulty with remembering)

"Did you go recently?"

"No, I think it was a while ago, I don't remember"

"Its ok Dad, its time for your 2 am dose" 

I helped him put the oxygen back on , and gave him his next dose. As I was leaving, Mom stirred, "Joanne!, what are you doing awake?"

"I helped Dad with his meds, go back to sleep" and I crept out of the room.

I went back downstairs. Laid in bed and wondered what or who woke me by knocking on the bedroom door. Dad wasn't moving fast these days. The meds made him a bit off balance, For him to go to the washroom on the other side of the house from his room, get back, and get back in bed, would have taken 15 - 20 min. And I would have heard the footsteps on the creaky floors. Plus he was sleeping when I walked in his room.

I'll never know what woke me that day. But I'll never forget the time I was able to be there for him, to help him, and make him more comfortable. And to hear him, as he has said to me every time he's seen me for 43 years. "Hi BooBoo"

Some of his final wishes were to donate to charities, instead of sending flowers or cards. The Cancer Society, or the Alberta fish and game association.

This June - I am paddling in an over 700km canoe race. The Yukon River Quest.  I have done it before and Dad was there, helping our team as a team crew volunteer. Hugging me and telling me I would do well, even when I was nervous about it. He hugged me at the start, and even bigger at the finish, telling me how proud he was of me. 

so this time - he wont be there in person, but I know he will be there in spirit.  and this time. Im paddling to race, and paddling to beat cancer.

Please consider donating in his name. SHARE THIS POST. Every single dollar goes directly to the cancer foundation. No donation is too small or too big. It all helps. 

https://www.canadahelps.org/en/pages/paddling-to-beat-cancer/