My father had Esophageal cancer. He underwent radiation therapy and round of chemo. Cancer spread and his esophagus was badly damaged from radiation.
I was lucky enough to see a prominent oncologist. He went through his file and gave me a few options. Since his esophagus was badly damaged all of them included drilling a hole in his abdomen through which he would be able to eat. Well, I should't say eat. The nutrients would be pored in. Oncologist said it's a procedure he would not wish upon his worst enemy. In those exact words. Knowing my father he would never agreed either.
So we switched to palliative care. We never told my mother and grandmother.
He died in his home early afternoon on New Year's Eve in 2012. surrounded by his family. He was 55.
I was lucky enough to see a prominent oncologist. He went through his file and gave me a few options. Since his esophagus was badly damaged all of them included drilling a hole in his abdomen through which he would be able to eat. Well, I should't say eat. The nutrients would be pored in. Oncologist said it's a procedure he would not wish upon his worst enemy. In those exact words. Knowing my father he would never agreed either.
So we switched to palliative care. We never told my mother and grandmother.
He died in his home early afternoon on New Year's Eve in 2012. surrounded by his family. He was 55.
I often think that, in a way, I killed my father.