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My stepdad only just turned 64, but has suffered from Alzheimer's-related dementia for over six years now; he had to retire early from teaching. He's been acting very lethargic for the past year, but my mom and the doctors just assumed it was due to his advancing dementia. But a PSA test a couple months ago showed an elevated number. The doc put him on antibiotics for a month to see if it was an infection and if the number would go down; the number not only didn't go down, it went up. So, they finally got around to doing a biopsy last week (funny how slow docs seem to be when a patient has dementia or related disease, or is older-does it not matter as much to them?). He had complications from the biopsy, had to be rushed back to the ER, admitted to the hospital and they finally got the bleeding under control.
So, I just talked to my mom (I'm four states away), who talked to the doctor today. She didn't beat around the bush, just came right out and said not only was it prostate cancer, but it was advanced. She has an appointment Friday to go over all the options, but, at this point, and with his Alzheimer's, they're not sure if there even ARE any options, except for pain control (translation: it's all over, there's no point, go get his affairs in order and we'll pump him full of painkillers for you). She hadn't yet talked to my stepsister, his daughter, but was calling her next; she only lives a couple of hours away. My teenage son is beside himself; not only has he had to deal with my stepdad's condition, but my stepmother was just recently diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer's as well (bizarre, isn't it, both my natural parents are sharp as tacks mentally and healthy physically, but not the stepparents).
This is not real right now. It was always other friends/co-workers/acquaintances, or distant relatives, who had to deal with this. I can feel the intense pain from under the shock, though, and it's coming. For 39 years, since I was three years old, this man has been in my life. He has an MA in English, was a great English teacher, poetry writer, friend. To watch his complete mental, and accompanying physical, decline these past several years has been just horrendous; especially when you know what he once was (and now I'm gonna have to watch my stepmom go through the same damn thing these next several years).
I knew he wouldn't be able to come to my November 23 wedding, the travel would just be too hard on him and my mom, his caretaker, and he wouldn't understand it or be able to handle it, anyway. But now it looks as though my mom won't be able to come, either, and, while I don't know for sure, my dad and stepmom likely won't be able to make it as well. I'm beginning to think maybe we should just scrap all wedding plans, get a few friends together, and just do it. What's the point if none of my parents can be there, and it's a small ceremony anyway?
And I'm feeling sick now, emotionally, mentally, physically. But my fiance is out of town for work during the week, staying at the house we'll be moving into in a month or so, where we don't yet have a phone and I can't get ahold of the friends I've tried to call. I just wish I could find a hole to crawl in and disappear.
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