Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the month “September, 2019”

Father/Daughter Moments


I am truly blessed.  And in spite of all the health issues I deal with, I have gotten to enjoy so many things with my daughters throughout their childhood.

From reading to both of them, learning to walk and ride bicycles, and helping with homework, I have so many memories us, and how they have grown.  Both enjoyed sitting on my lap, while I read to them.  Once they realized the world that awaited them, by standing on their feet, they quickly learned the importance of putting one foot in front of the other.  They learned balance from learning to ride a bicycle.  I am proud to say that both have now reached a part of their education, where it is not so easy anymore for me to help with their homework not only because of what they are learning, but how.  Both enjoy the challenge of their education and do not look for the easy A’s.

We are coming around the homestretch of their childhood now.  And there are two things that are coming to the front where my input as their father is going to play a vital role, boyfriends and continuing their education after college.

As much as I cringe when the thoughts of dating come up, I believe I have given them not only a good example of how they should be respected by someone interested in them, but I believe that they both have the firmness to stand up for how they want to be treated.  They have had a few other good role models in baby sitters when they were younger who demonstrated the importance of focusing on their education and their values.  I have heard the “boyfriend” word mentioned a couple times so far already, and I have taken it in stride.

But an even bigger decision is coming right at them, very quickly.  And that is what to do after high school.  Sure I am biased and will say that both have a bright future ahead of them.  It is one thing to say that I will support whatever they want to do after high school.  It is another to make sure that they have the opportunity and guidance to do that.

Making those decisions is not something that can be done last minute either.  But once an idea is thought of as far as future, then I have figure how to get there.  Both have pretty good ideas of what they want to do, and each will have their distinct way of getting there.  One’s talent may take her as far as she wants to go depending on the balance between natural ability and what is expected.  She is an artist after all, and does not like being told what to do with her talent.

But my other daughter is expected to take a different route.  And I remember as a teen myself, when it came to figuring what I wanted to do when I grew up, we either had the idea, or maybe our guidance counselor at school might get involved.

The other day, she showed me just how much thought is going to go into, to prepare her for what she wants to do, even as far as specializing.  And to help her with that, something we did not have way back, besides the internet, is a web site for the Bureau of Labor Statistics (www.bls.gov).  This by far is one of the best tools to help a parent and child figure out what is going to be required to achieve their future occupational goals.

The web page not only lists the type of job, but the average salary, the entry level of education, and as you go further into it, descriptions of the work environment, how to get hired, state and area requirements (some vary from state to state), education required, as well as other resources of who to contact for more information.  Also just as important, the job outlook for the particular field.

My daughters do not use me much for homework anymore, except when it comes to the occasional need for proof reading things.  And as I have stressed to them, paperwork completed from now on, needs to be the best they can submit.  They see the difference that their decisions and actions will make.

I wish I could keep them young, but that would only satisfy my selfish happiness.  I enjoy being their father.  I am proud to be their father.  And I cannot wait to see what lies ahead for them as I am counting on being there when it happens.

Preparation For Chemo – Part 4 – A “Coaching” Change


continuing on with the “30th Anniversary” of my remission from Hodgkin’s Lymphoma

To recap from the last post, I had tons of questions.  So many in fact, the doctor refused to answer any of them, which led to the nurse who would be administering my chemo, to be the one to answer them.  And there were a lot of questions.  And Brenda took the time to answer each and every one of them.  But it was not any particular question that prompted the next and unexpected issue.

I am getting really ahead of myself in this post, or series actually, but I must.  Because looking back, I now realized that Brenda was more than just my chemotherapy nurse.  And without going too far ahead, it was during my first chemotherapy treatment, she would reveal to me something very personal, she had a son my age.  No, I was not the son.  But, my being her patient, gave her an understanding, which I felt resulted in me receiving not just a nurse’s care, but a mother’s care as well.  You could see it in her, it could easily be her son in the chemo chair instead of me.

The combination of Brenda’s professional skills and her motherly instincts, left her with a concern following my interrogation.  She could tell that while I had all my concerns answered, my mind was still not at ease.  But this issue would be above what she was trained to handle, and it would take more than a “mother’s” support.

This is a current picture of the campus where I was treated.  The building in the lower right corner, served as my oncologist’s office.  Brenda had recommended that I travel across the street to the main building, to the 9th floor (I believe that I recall that correctly), which was referred to as the cancer floor.  I was to ask for a man named “John.”

The one aspect of treatment and survival that nearly every one of us underestimates and values, is emotional support, therapy, seeing a shrink.  The stigma of being unable to handle something emotionally, or worse, that we might be crazy, is what keeps many from getting the most important aspect of their care, emotional support.  And my first attempt at getting any support in my cancer journey, through my church minister had failed miserably.

I got to the ninth floor, clearly this was the cancer floor, or so I had assumed from all of the hairless heads I was seeing walk past me.  I approached the receptionist, and said that I was there to see John.  The receptionist asked me to have a seat, that he would be with me momentarily.

From the archway to the office areas, a large figure came towards me.  All I could tell was that he barely cleared the archway, from a height perspective.  I do not consider myself tall at all, at 5’7″.  He clearly stood over a half of a foot taller than me.  He reached out to shake my hand, only to engulf my hand, as if some sort of armor, but not armor for war, but to protect.

“My name is John.  You must be Paul.”

We walked back to his office.  John offered me anything to drink or did I need anything else to make me feel more comfortable.  I took that as the green light to just unload.  And I did.  For nearly an hour and a half, I spilled my guts to a complete stranger about my fears of what I was facing, from the treatments to the mortality.  I broke down several times, something that actually brought me some relief as opposed to the continuous bottling up I was accustomed to, protecting everyone else around me.  With John, I could release this crap.

The funny thing is, it was not all the things that I listed that I was afraid of, or concerned about dealing with, there was still one thing that I was struggling with, and it was John that helped me to realize it.

I was not happy with someone in my team.  And I, as a member of my treatment team, needed to deal with it.  But as a patient, what I was about to decide had never crossed my mind.  But John helped me to realize just how important my feelings were to my treatment.

I came to Dr. M. because he save my grandmother’s life from her battle with breast cancer.  At the time, that was the most important consideration, his obvious success.  But just as important as Dr. M’s record, was my comfort, which I felt was not being met.  John’s suggestion nearly knocked me on the floor.

“Would you like to switch doctors?”

I could not believe what I was hearing.  Would it even be possible?  What if it could not be done, would Dr. M. hold it against me, thereby possibly impacting my results?  Would the next doctor see me as just a pain in the ass and could I possibly be treated worse?  And then how much time would I have left?  Remember, Hodgkin’s is best treated as soon as possible.  Would I have to start all over with diagnosing and staging?  All these questions, and before I could ask John, he already had an answer for me.

“You could always switch to a different doctor.  Dr. V and Dr. P are available in the same practice and can take over your care without any interruption to the plan.  Would you like me to reach out and try to arrange this for you?”

I could not believe what I was hearing.  This was like a football owner firing the coach the day before the Super Bowl, exactly for just the reason I was changing doctors, just because I did not like him.  I had seen both of the other doctors during my staging process, and really, up until my pre-chemo appointment conflict, I liked all three doctors.  But both Dr. V and Dr. P were younger, and definitely more personable.  I sat there in disbelief as John lifted his phone and made the call over to my oncologist’s office.  And as simple as that, I had a different lead oncologist, and my chemotherapy treatments would commence as planned.

One final breakdown, of relief.  John came over and said, “it’s okay.  What you are feeling is totally normal.  You did the right thing by dealing with it.  You are as much a part of getting through this, as your doctors and your treatments.  Hopefully now, you can focus on getting through this.  And any time you need to talk or need help, about anything, come over and see me.

There was a huge relief that came over me.  I would not allow myself to feel bad, kicking one doctor to the curb, just because I had feelings.  This was important to me.  And as a team member, I made the right decision.

Another Heart Broken


As usual with this subject of the post, I must offer the following disclaimer due to trolls that stalk my page…

THE FOLLOWING POST IS NOT ABOUT MY OWN DIVORCE AND CUSTODY!!!!!!

I think I made this perfectly clear.

In divorce, there are two types of parents when it comes to custody.  Parents who want to be in their child’s lives, and those who do not.  And while statistics may show an overwhelming bias against one parent over another, the critical point remains that a child who starts off with two parents, needs both of those parents, regardless of gender, even after divorce.  This post is not about a mother or father who does not care.

As an adult child of divorce, I am especially sensitive to the relationships between children and parents during a divorce.  And having been divorced, I must deal with issues as the parent, as well as memories of my childhood, or lack of.  So the things I say, I do not take lightly, but most certainly, take sincerely.

Today, I received an email from a reader, who happens to be a father.  Like the majority of my followers here, I do not know identities (except for some of the trolls that I have figured out).  Given the details of the email, I know this email is the real deal.  An email such as this will end one of two ways, the parent is given some additional support to see things can get better, perhaps a direction how.  The other result, as far as I am concerned, 100% unacceptable, the loss of the parent from the child’s life.  This occurs most likely through either suicide, or surrendering their rights as a parent.  In either way, the system clearly fails if this is how not just this father’s story ends, but any parent.

Ask any parent whose child has passed away due to either illness or accident, the hole left if their heart will never heal.  And though the situation is different, constructing a narrative that causes the destruction between a parent and their child, even though both remain physically alive, creates a similar feeling of loss.  Some may recover from this neglectful and abusive behavior.  For some, this ends up as permanent, as if the child had actually died.

This father writes me, to mention that he has decided to surrender his parental rights, no longer able to sustain the fight for his children, financially, emotionally, or physically.  As is often the case, custody cases can easily approach six figures, emotions can take one step forward only to take two steps backward, and the wear and tear on the body from the stress may never be able to recover from.  Clearly to this father, and he did not state which of the three factors, or a combination of all of them, led him to this point.

As I said, I will not discuss my own custody issues, but I do what I can to encourage others, both mothers and fathers to work things out, for the sake of children.  And I do this not as a divorced father, but as I mentioned, as an adult child of divorce.  It is a relatively new concept, or concern, because all of this time, attention has always been paid to the lives of the children, assuming that once in adulthood, all would be good.  Well, except for the glaring statistic of divorce rates of children from divorced families.

In communicating with this father, I found myself dealing with a new issue, that even through my own situation, I never recognized as an option.  But I was going to convey it to this father, the decision he wanted to make was going to be a huge mistake to not only him, but to his children.

My father made decisions that he made in my young childhood.  I had always made it a point to not know what happened between he and my mother, because whatever happened between them, should have made no difference to me.  In the end, it did, because my father would eventually make the decision to “disappear.”  He never surrendered his rights to me.  But even with an ultimatum leveled on him at my high school graduation, he still made his decision, and it was one that could never be taken back.

Now, obviously, the picture above, clearly shows that my dad and I did eventually make up.  We had a very special relationship, the rebuild caused by a tragic event.  The first half of my life with, rather, without my father, was gone.  There was no getting any of it back.  But with grandchildren that loved him very much, it gave my father and I a much needed opportunity to heal.  And in the end, I forgave my father, and loved him for doing what he could for his grandchildren.  All these years later, I still do not know, why things happened the way that they did.

I have several friends who were divorced, and now have grown children.  I have heard their stories of those who gave up, and those who fought, and fought, and fought.  And the only true regret that I have ever heard,  was from those who did “walk away.”

And then I felt myself dealing with a new issue, that I had never felt before.  And this emotion would be the catalyst for how I would encourage this father, do not give up.  Though I got the opportunity to make amends with my father, and spend some valuable time and memories, there was one issue that was never, and will never get the chance to be cleared up.  And it is something that will last me, as long as I live, because he is no longer here to defend himself.

From the time my children were adopted, through the beginning of the divorce, to today, my children know me as the loving father I have always been.  As of late, geographically things are not convenient, but my children know that I will always be there for them and will do everything I can to help them, no matter where I am.

And here was the new issue.  My father did not.  And he lived less than twenty minutes from me growing up.  He not only was responsible for the decision to spend time with me or not, but he also chose not to fight for that right either.  And this is now the issue I struggle with.  It is one thing for me to be able to proclaim that I will never give up my rights as father to my children, it is another that my Father did not.  And for that, I cannot forgive him.

And that is what I tried to get across to this father.  Giving up must never be an option.  I get it.  Our bodies take a horrible beating from the stress and financial toll of this fight.  But that does not even compare to a child will never forgive you for “giving up.”

Should we have to fight til our last heartbeat for our children?  No.  And fortunately, states are now realizing the relationships between parents and their children need help, and are changing the law to allow these changes to take place.  It is a slow process, but it is happening.

I do not know the age of this man’s children, but they sound young.  He has lost everything in fighting for his custody, and likely will not recover any time soon.  But the ultimate loss will come if he stops fighting for his children.  I have no idea how my father felt making the decision that he did.  But I do know that I did not want this father to find out either.

As I wrote this post, I received an email from someone else.  And this father had just won his custody fight, a very long one.  It turns out, that he was good at documenting, and presented the judge with an overwhelming amount of documentation that showed how relentless the other parent was, in trying to take the kids away from him, no intention of co-parenting, or even letting the children be in his life.  Seriously, if you have to try this hard to prevent your children from seeing their other parent, you are using your children as pawns or weapons.  Shame on you.  And you need to know, it will never be the other parent that will pay for that, it will be the offending parent that is despised by the child, no matter how much the denial.  It will happen.

I asked the email owner if I could forward it to the other writer, who could definitely use some encouragement.

Look, if you walk away from your child, know that is something you will never get back.  But if you truly love your children, you do not ever give up any fight for them.  Giving up is never an option.

Post Navigation