As a photographer, and self proclaimed artist (smile) my biggest coping mechanism has been taking pictures. Even as a child, I would stock up on disposable cameras and drive my grandparents crazy to get them developed for me.
I documented everything about my father's cancer journey in pictures. From the day of the diagnosis, to the emergency hospital stays, the treatment, the rehabilitation, the home hospice, and his death. It's hard for me not to be emotional seeing these pictures. So many different thoughts and feelings that I experianced these last days. His last month of life. My dad had gotten a cold that winter and it just would not go away. He was stubborn and would not let my sister or myself know just how bad he felt. For a while his cold symptoms had even seemed to clear up. But by early spring he had developed a terrible cough again. A lump in his lymph nodes on his neck had began to form. He believed they were just swollen because of his cold, so he did not say anything to us. My father was never the type of person to see a doctor. I was never fully sure if it was fear, or trying to avoid the financial burdens of medical care. He was always like this. As long as I can remember. Stubborn single father who always tried to put everyone's needs above his own. When he finally let us know what was going on, his lump was as big as my fist. I was terrified, but I tried so very hard not to let it show as I knew it was my turn to be strong for my father. We went to the ER and left with a recommendation for a cancer specialist. I remember before the official diagnosis feeling so hopeful. I had done a lot of reading online, and originally doctors believed he had hodgkin's lymphoma. A very scary cancer indeed, but it had really good survival statistics. We were ready to fight. When my father went in for the biopsy he had a lot of trouble breathing and was admitted to the hospital. We waited a week for the results of that test. Rapid test showed he indeed had cancer, and doctors began to discuss chemotherapy with us. But we had to wait for the official diagnosis with the cancer type. I was still very hopeful. I got to know his oncologist very well over this week. His nurse too. I was bugging them every day to see if they had results as the hospital we were in seemed to know nothing. This week seemed to last a year. The wait. It was terrible. I remember getting the call. The call. The life altering call. I was sitting in my friends car outside the hospital. I had been doing over night stays with my dad and was getting ready to go home, eat and shower. For whatever reason, the phone did not ring and went straight to voice mail. I played it on speaker. Right away I knew by my father's oncologist's tone that things were really bad. I had never heard sadness in a doctor's voice before. And he said he was sorry. So so sorry. Up until this moment we never heard the words Lung Cancer. And I never in my life had heard of Extensive Staged Small Cell Lung Cancer. I knew nothing. I later learned the 5-year relative survival rate for stage III SCLC is about 8%. SCLC that has spread to other parts of the body is often hard to treat. Stage IV SCLC has a relative 5-year survival rate of about 2%. My father discovered his in stage 4. Some doctors classify anything that has spread past the lungs as "Extensive Stage Small Cell Lung Cancer". It's a terminal cancer with very little treatment options. I hid in the tiny bathroom of my dad's hospital room, I sat on the floor and I cried. I punched the sink. I felt like I was going to throw up. But I got up, looked in the mirror and said "get it together, Lopez... get it together, Taylor." Wiped my tears away, and went back to sit with my dad. We agreed to do Chemotherapy to shrink the tumors to help with breathing and extend quality of life. We learned that this would not be a cure, and that they could not even properly give him a true estimate of time. Just that if we didn't do the chemotherapy, it would be very soon. After chemotherapy, my father almost seemed to be getting better. His growths did decrease in size. And we were all feeling hopeful. We were told perhaps a hospice would be a great option for us. I don't think anybody was ready to hear that. We were moved to a recovery room on the top floor. It was bigger, private and had a view. The chemotherapy caused huge painful blisters all over my father's legs. A rare side effect. Something we were not ready for and would continue to worsen and grow until the end. We were warned about his chances of pneumonia and infection. But were told to remain positive. He went from the hospital into a rehabilitation center for a while to learn to use a walker and adjust to his new life. Things seemed great at first, but then my dad started to feel really sick. That's when the ground was ripped from beneath our feet. Our worst fears had came true and my dad had developed pneumonia. He was tired. He didn't want to fight anymore and asked me to call a hospice so he could come home. He hadn't been home for nearly a month. I think that in part made him want to stop fighting faster. He just wanted to come home. And decided against more hospital stays to treat the pneumonia. He lived exactly one week from the time he came home from the rehabilitation center. I have a long post about the spiritual experiences I had during the last week of my dad's life, and I will link it here: (Saying Goodbye To My Father; A Lesson In Faith) https://www.sugarygiggles.com/blog/saying-goodbye-to-my-father-a-lesson-in-faith We had an amazing hospice team that I will forever be thankful for. I am not sure I could have done it without their amazing help and resources. My father died at home surrounded by people he loved. I wish that we had more time, and that things would have went differently. I remember at one point in the hospital him telling me not to worry, because he was not ready to go yet either. Not a day goes by that I don't miss him and that I don't think about him. Grief is truly a journey that we will go on forever. I shared a lot of these images before in a collection, but I did not offer any real context to them. I simply said "my father's cancer journey in pictures". That's it. I really can't believe it has taken me 2 years to make this post. To clarify what all these images mean. The endless medications, the breathing machines, the hospital stays... all of it. Even now, I feel like I have not put enough weight into my words and that I could do better. I am posting this to let others going through similar know that they are not alone. That their feelings and emotions are valid. I don't think anybody can fully understand what it is like to have someone you love diagnosed with a terminal disease. Knowing that they are going to die. We all need to be kinder and gentler to each other. We only get one life. And your time on this Earth is precious.
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Dear Dad,
I know I haven't written in a while. I guess it started to feel a bit trivial. But tonight I just miss you so much and I really needed to talk to you. So here I am. Not sleeping well tonight has lead me to googling people from our past. I found out that Marco died in 2012, but Flo passed away this past April. She lived to be 97. Can you believe that? Her obituary had photos and she looked good in them. How I remembered her as a child. For some reason I assumed she probably already had passed away and I felt bad for not reaching out. I left a comment on her obituary thanking her for being a wonderful neighbor and that it really does take a village to raise a child. I thanked her for being a good friend to grandma and said that perhaps they are your neighbors up in heaven. Whilst thinking of people from the past, I saw that Doc and Marsha are still living. And he is still practicing medicine part time in Florida. I hope they are happy in their later years. Doc is into his 80s, right? Things with the kids are good. They seem to love their new schools and Ashlie will be starting college soon. You would not believe how big Poppy Marie has gotten. Tavo's dad has been spending a lot of time with Robbie, but I know he misses you a lot. We all do. I didn't know who else to tell about Flo and Marco other than you and Lauren... I was thinking about writing Brian again. Just so I can maybe get a response letter. But I guess that is silly isn't? Why did you never tell me you played the bongos? Or made leather belts and jewelry to sell in the city? Your life before kids is so interesting to me. I wish I knew more. I am going to try and sleep now. Good night dad. I love you and I miss you. If you can't get out the house to see a therapist, or don't have health insurance. I highly recommend www.betterhelp.com
They have a ton of promo codes for free sessions floating around the internet. I am not sponsored by them, so sadly I don't have a promo code... but if you google around, I am sure you can find them. Their website is full of licensed therapists and you can even shop around until you find the one that works best for you. Video chat, phone call, text / email. As often as you need. Whatever works best for you and your budget. I personally use them. ((***edit I recently found out they have discounts for low income families. I am not sure how this works, but worth an inquiry. )) Struggling a bit financially but still need someone to talk to? https://www.7cups.com also has licensed therapists, but also offers a FREE community with tons of resources and communities + FREE peer to peer chat. So if you're looking to talk to someone dealing with something similar, they are a community of really awesome people. If you need help right now in this very moment, the national suicide hotline is 1-800-273-8255 Or if you are like me, and talking on the phone with strangers gives you a bit of anxiety... Text 741741 from anywhere in the USA to text with a trained Crisis Counselor. I also can suggest some spiritual coaches and peer support groups if needed. Just shoot me a message here or on fb. It's a rainy Monday here in Illinois and my shoot canceled on me... I am not actually too bummed about it as I am feeling very emotionally exhausted which has lead to physical tiredness.
Dealing with depression is an every day struggle for me. And over the past couple of weeks, my anxiety has definitely made me noticeably irritable, tense, and really unpleasant at times. Meditation is a blessing, but it isn't a miracle cure by any means. And honestly, this is all first world problems, I know, but they’re my first world problems and I have a right to vent them if I choose to. I am choosing to speak more openly about my aniexty and depression as an opportunity to change the perception we all have on social media. Perfectly lived lives arranged for people through photos and vague status. People we haven't spoke to in person in months... Perhaps even years. I know I am guilty of this. Even when I share the bad I get emotional and end up deleting the post. I opened a door when I first started talking about my grief and PTSD after losing my father. Whilst I still am a very private person, and enjoy people not knowing much about my life...I think this particular part should be talked about as it might help others dealing with the same thing. I really want to open up to people who may not understand what depression is. Or perhaps inspire someone going through something similar. A couple weeks ago I said to my thearpist; "this morning I woke up and just understood why Anthony Bourdain did what he did." Of course she was concerned, and I had to dig in deeper for her. I mean, I wasn't going to hurt myself - but I understood. He had a life he loved and enjoyed. One that a lot of the world, my self included was very envious of. But yet something deep inside was truly digging at him. There really isn't too much wrong in my personal life, my business, or in my family that would warrant thoughts of suicide and overwhelming depression. But yet, there I was.. or am? So I understood. I understand. So friends... if you’re struggling right now, I see you. I was you. I’m still you (clearly). Keep fighting, it’s worth it. More importantly, you’re worth it. We’ll get through this, together. If you can't get out the house to see a therapist, I recommend www.betterhelp.com They have a ton of promo codes for free sessions floating around the internet. I am not sponsored by them, so sadly I don't have a promo code... but if you google around, I am sure you can find them. Their website is full of licensed therapists and you can even shop around until you find the one that works best for you. Struggling a bit financially but still need someone to talk to? https://www.7cups.com also has licensed therapists, but also offers a FREE community with tons of resources and communities + FREE peer to peer chat. So if you're looking to talk to someone dealing with something similar, they are a community of really awesome people. If you need help right now in this very moment, the national suicide hotline is 1-800-273-8255 Or if you are like me, and talking on the phone with strangers gives you a bit of anxiety... Text 741741 from anywhere in the USA to text with a trained Crisis Counselor. I also can suggest some spiritual coaches and peer support groups if needed. Just shoot me a message here on fb. This time of year is always very hard for me. My grief is in constant waves. But June will always be the hardest. As memories pop up here on facebook, or people comment old posts (with the purest of intentions)... I have to remind myself that thinking about what I could or could not have done differently.... living in constant regret is only killing my soul slowly. It's not what my father would have wanted for his daughter. It isn't what I want for myself.
I am working on redefining what June means to *me*. It will always be sad... but maybe it doesn't have to be so difficult. I sent a love and light package to my dear friend back home in Carlisle. Her and I both lost a loved one on the same day and I wanted to help her get through it even though I couldn't be there in person. Such a terrible thing to have in common with someone, but it created an amazing bond. I talked my best friend into doing my baba Ram Dass's Summer Solstice Meditation Renewal. He has an open mind... but is probably like lol what am I getting myself into! Finding hope.... looking forward to little things. It's what gets me by. Depression doesn’t discriminate. It knows no boundaries. Anthony Bourdain had money, he had fame, he was respected. He touched many lives. He had maybe the coolest job I can conceive of. A life I wanted.
Sigh...What I am saying is.... Depression doesn’t care. It can happen to anyone. We all need to do a better job at understanding these things are out of our control. There is no simple solution. You can't just tell someone drink some water, get more sleep... think positive etc.. Sure I talk a lot lately about love, light, and my inner spiritual journey. Crystals and affirmations have brought me a lot of happiness and help me deal with my greif and PTSD... HOWEVER... it is important to stress that I am also in therapy. I do not think ANY of this would help without my peer to peer consoling or chats with my thearpist. I get regular help for dealing with depression. I speak openly about it. I bug the heck out of my support system and close friends. You don't have to suffer alone. Get help if you need help. We need you here. There is nothing to be ashamed of. It isn't your fault.... Suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255 But if you're like me and are weird about being on the phone... there is a text service too. The 'Crisis Text Line' Text 741741 from anywhere in the USA to text with a trained Crisis Counselor. "Every texter is connected with a Crisis Counselor, a real-life human being trained to bring texters from a hot moment to a cool calm through active listening and collaborative problem solving." I have personally used this service several times. And even at 4am, they connected me with someone to talk to. Another good service is https://www.7cups.com they also peer to peer help as well as licensed therapists. If you download their app, they have grounding exercises and other things you can do to offer a distraction. Most of their services are free. You can also talk to me. Inbox me. I might not have the right things to say. But I will listen, I want to listen. |
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