Dear brothers and caregivers,
My dad, age 83, entered in home hospice about a month ago. For those of you who need a refresher, my dad was dx 11/17, mets to bones and ran the full range of treatments and has had a great run. He is my hero and there is not a better man alive as he saved my life and my children's from a domestic violence filled marriage and we are safely on the other side. Even during his treatment, he would fly back and forth from my home in Florida to ohio where he lives so he could support us through our long, tough road. That brings us to now. His oncologist told him he was too old for chemo. We sought a second opinion, and that oncologist said age was not a basis for a chemo decision but that he needed to weigh the risks and benefits and quality of life. My dad chose hospice as his body was tired. My brothers and I whole heartedly support him. His wish is to pass away at home, so I am here to hopefully ensure that happens. He keeps thanking me for being here and taking care of him, and I keep telling him that its an honor.
What the Lord has shown me in the two weeks I've been here is that this is not at all what I expected. I thought he would be in significant pain and heavily medicated. He is not. I am thankful. Before I got here, he had already made all his financial arrangements, pre-paid for his funeral and told us exactly how he wants this to go down to my writing his obituary as he gave the edits. He will be cremated after his memorial service and his ashes thrown on a fire here on the farm where we grew up while we toast him with margaritas. He has good days and bad days, but he is still joking, even about death. We had a moment about a week ago in the evening where he said, "This is it." He held my hand and my moms hand and started singing his favorite song, Longer, Dan Fogelberg. I sang with him, he closed his eyes and stopped singing, and a minute or so later opened his eyes and said, "Wait a minute! I'm still here! Man, what do I have to do; this was so perfect!" We laughed so hard.
Another day last week, he wanted fried chicken for dinner. I gave him the chicken, walked out of the room, and about 20 seconds later, he's choking on the chicken bone. Thank goodness he was able to cough it up. I turned to him and said, "Dad, I guess I should have discussed this with you before, but there is an approved list of ways you can die, and choking on a chicken bone is not on the approved list!" We laughed so much. Another night, it was marshmallows he wanted. When I had the bag, he said, " I wonder how many marshmallows it would take..." and I interrupted him with "Dad, not on the approved list!"
So all that to say thank you for the encouragement you all have been to him here as he has fought, and keep fighting. He is ready to lay down his sword but is so frustrated that this is not happening as quickly as he'd hoped. I would appreciate your prayers, for him and his peace and acceptance of God's perfect timing in bringing him home, his name is Jan, for my family as we prepare to release him and for me as his caregiver for wisdom in all the decisions between here and his homecoming. This is my favorite picture of us when I was a baby. I hate cancer, just had to get that in there one last time! Fight on, brothers!
Lora
Zytiga and Firmagon 
Proton Therapy
Update on my Dad
Abiraterone plus Prednisone and 3 monthly injection failing now in 79 year old dad with mets to bone on NHS in UK.
