Bart Goodes

My father was always a person you could count on and trust. My name is Lisa and I was, like so many others, Daddy’s little girl. An only child and brought into what I have come to know as the most amazing family possible. Till the day that he died, he still claimed his best birthday present was when they brought me home.

Like many others, my father had no symptoms. It was one day when I noticed that his glasses didn’t look right. There appeared to be a yellow film on them. When taking them off we realized it was his eyes that had the colour. From that day, it was always something that I knew deep in my gut would take my father from me.

The next day we started our roller coaster ride that led me to today. February 20th, 2008. Six days with out my dad.

The day after I noticed dad’s eyes, he was admitted to the hospital for some tests. That was Tuesday. Wednesday he was released and scheduled to come back on Thursday for a test. The doctor’s appointment was for Thursday at 3:00 pm. That was when Dad was told he had pancreatic cancer. There was a tumour attached to the pancreas and sitting on the bile duct. But, with dad’s health and age, he was a prime candidate for the Whipple surgery. What a relief. We waited over weekend to see a surgeon on Tuesday. He was then scheduled for a stint to be put in to take the jaundice out of his body. That all happened on the Friday. To this day I am amazed at how quickly our health care had taken care of Dad.

Surgery was set for Sept. 26th, 2007. The surgery was a success from all reports, which gave us all a sigh of relief. Mom and I were talking to Dad and the surgeon by 2:00 in the afternoon. We felt so good thinking that Dad was one of the 5 percent. After a few days he was taken out of CCU and put on a regular floor. From there he contracted some type of infection and was then moved back to CCU. We almost lost him that night. They did many tests on Dad in October and kept comparing them. All still looked well. Then, we finally received the news that they had tested nine of the lymph nodes. Six came back with cancerous cells. But again, we still seemed optimistic with all. Dad would receive chemo to kill/slow down any cells in his body. He is healthy and active. We had a good shot at beating this thing.

Chemo was scheduled and done and relatively he made out well. Not to bad, all in all. When the nurse came to the house one day to do the routine checks on Dad, she noticed that he had a fever. So, Mom took him to the hospital. They thought they would do a ct scan and an MRI. From there we learned that it was all through Dad’s liver. The doctors were amazed at how fast it had grown on his liver. From the first scan in October until December, it had taken over. Dad’s cancer was now terminal. Man those words hurt.

They still were going to do chemo. Gentle, palliative chemo but, still chemo. It was six weeks ago Thursday when he had his last chemo session. That was his last trip into the hospital. Dad never came back home after that. It was also January 30th when they told us that Dad’s liver had shut down. I spent as much time with him as I could. I have 2 children and a business to run along with a husband that works full time; my time with my father was limited. But, I can say, it was still time that I would never trade, or regret.

My father, through it all, always kept a stiff upper lip, a smile and, a thank you for every nurse, doctor or patient that he met.

I did meet one man who was brought into the same room as Dad and the words that he said that night to my Mom, Dad and I. I will never forget. His honesty and sincerity will stay with me forever like the love for my father. After telling this gentleman that it was pancreatic cancer, he broke down into tears and revealed that his best friend died of the same disease. He then knew the inevitable for Dad.

He said “Sir I can not pray for your health, but I can pray for you to have the strength to go through death.” His eyes then turned to mine and he stuttered in between his tears, “I pray for your family to have the strength to carry on without you.”

I hope that I can grant that man his prayers. I know that Dad had the strength to face his death, with Mom and I by his side.

I really hope that we can understand and bring some more awareness to this type of cancer. The numbers are mind shattering. And they don’t seem to be getting any better.

Lisa Goodes