After my father got cancer,

I learned that my father had cancer at 9 am on February 6, 65438.

On the evening of February 5, 65438, I just rushed back to my parents from other places. Early the next morning, several doctors came to make rounds as usual, staying in each bed for at least a few minutes, asking the patient's feelings in detail and patiently explaining the changes in his condition. It's his father's turn, but there is only a short sentence: "patient's family, I'll call you to the office later and tell you about your illness."

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165438+ 10/7. On Sunday night, I sent a video to my family as usual. Mom, dad and aunt are here, and we are all talking about the same thing. Towards the end, my mother told me that my father was not feeling well and his stomach swelled after eating something. They went to the county hospital for examination and prescribed medicine. For convenience, they went back to the town hospital for intravenous drip. My father threw a reproachful look at my mother, complaining that she shouldn't tell me, for fear that I would be worried, and repeatedly stressed that it was only a small problem that the town hospital could solve. I smiled and asked my father to treat it normally according to the doctor's advice. I also took the opportunity to persuade him to smoke less and exercise more to develop healthy living habits. The four people present at that time, including my father and me, didn't take this episode too seriously and ended the video easily. I continue to work in the new week, and they continue to live a "retired" life.

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165438+1October 2 1, Thursday night, I was working the night shift, and my aunt in Shanghai seldom called me, only knowing that my father's illness could not be cured in town. He has been transferred to the county hospital for several days without telling me. My aunt said that my father was in a bad mental state and didn't want others to see him sick. My cousin, who lives in the county, went to visit him on purpose, but he told me that his father's bad temper is famous among relatives. My aunt asked me to comfort my father. She has worked in a hospital in Shanghai for 9 years. Although she is not a doctor, she has heard a lot and seen a lot, so she is half a doctor. My father's condition is not serious now, but it takes time, patience and a sense of urgency to fully recover.

On Friday morning, I called my mother to confirm that my father was in hospital. My father had an examination. High transaminase and bilirubin lead to jaundice and mild gastric ulcer. He was diagnosed with digestive system disorder and needed to nourish his stomach and protect his liver. I'm not worried. Several relatives suffered from similar diseases. It is not uncommon for a man of his father's age to have such a situation. He was given an intravenous drip in the hospital for several days and more than ten days, but he was not cured.

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Time is like a wild horse out of control. In a blink of an eye, my father has been in the county hospital for more than ten days, and his condition has not improved. Father's mood is getting worse and worse, but the doctor says it's normal. It should be all right in a few days. 1Saturday, October 30th 165438 A new round of CT examination showed that my father's bile duct was dilated and suspected to be blocked. However, most doctors do not go to work on weekends, and the doctors who stay on duty have limited skills and cannot be diagnosed. Sensing that something is wrong, we dare not sit still and find a relationship. We sent the CT report to the doctors in the big hospital, and people quickly gave their opinions-transfer immediately.

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On Monday, February 2, 65438, my father was admitted to the provincial cancer hospital under the name of an expert according to the instructions of a doctor friend in the provincial capital. Fortunately, I arrived in the provincial capital one night in advance, avoiding the foggy road closure the next morning, and the beds that were already very nervous in the inpatient department were just vacant at the moment-you know, many patients here were waiting outside for a few days with numbers. Everything is going so smoothly, which seems to imply that my father's trip will have a happy ending, especially when the expert said to my father, "Come to me about this disease, and you will find the right person", which is a reassurance to all of us.

In the next few days, my mother was the busiest time. She was busy with her father to do all kinds of tests, answer the phone calls from relatives and friends, and explain the reasons to many people who didn't understand the situation and were scared by the "tumor" hospital. Fortunately, my cousin escorted me all the way, my uncle took care of me remotely, and relatives and friends from all walks of life provided assistance. My parents are afraid of affecting my work and won't let me take time off, saying that the current situation is controllable and I don't have to worry too much. Finally, I decided not to ask for leave, transferred to another class, went to my parents' place on Thursday night, and stayed with them during normal vacation from Friday to Sunday. Whether I need to take time off in the future is pending.

On the evening of February 5, 65438, after my father was ill for more than twenty days, I finally came to see him. In the cold night wind, the bright red LED characters of "Provincial Cancer Hospital" are particularly dazzling, as if showing a trace of blood, but I don't feel horrible. My father just came to see this expert, not the tumor. Until now, I still have a normal heart, encouraging my father and giving my mother confidence.

Who would have thought that after only one night, this "normal heart" could no longer be calm.

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The patient's symptoms were obstructive jaundice, and the examination showed that the pancreatic duct, bile ducts inside and outside the liver were dilated, the abnormal signal focus at the head of the pancreas, and the hilar lymph nodes were enlarged. Combined with clinic, we diagnosed pancreatic cancer.

I was shocked! A huge change comes suddenly without warning, just like when you deal with traffic violations and think that you can leave after paying a fine, the police station detains you, digs up a criminal record that you never knew, and wants to sentence you to death. However, the doctor didn't give us time to become speechless, continued.

"The result of our consultation, the first choice is surgery, remove the gallbladder, duodenum, part of the pancreas and stomach, and then re-suture the intestine. This is a major operation, and there are high risks and costs in both the operation itself and postoperative recovery. Of course, you can choose chemotherapy or radiotherapy, but I want to tell you that according to past experience, pancreatic cancer is very insensitive to chemotherapy and radiotherapy, and the treatment effect is poor. You can also choose to do more tests, such as biopsy and PET-CT, to confirm whether it is a malignant tumor, and I want to remind you that the pancreas is deep, so it is difficult to take biopsy samples, and the probability of accurately taking the target site is not high. If it is bad, it can be judged as malignant; If it is good, it cannot be judged as benign. If it is malignant, sampling still has the risk of transmission. Compared with traditional CT, PET-CT has better effect and higher accuracy, but it is only higher, and the accuracy of 100% is not reached, and it takes a long time for PET-CT to make an appointment and wait for the result. If we do, the operation will be postponed for another week. You discuss which plan to choose and tell me as soon as possible. "

Too late to be sad, I quickly reviewed what the doctor said and discussed countermeasures with my mother. The doctor seems to have given us many choices, and there is only one way to strip away those unlikely possibilities. Now that I'm here, I can only trust the judgment of hospitals and doctors. So we quickly reached an agreement and contacted my uncle abroad to ask for his advice. My uncle is always so calm and easygoing. He understood everything in a few words, agreed to our decision, told me what to do next, and immediately booked a plane ticket back to China. I immediately asked for a week's leave. The operation that decided my father's fate was so decided. Tuesdays 65438+February 10, the first bed 10.

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I explained my illness to my father and drew a schematic diagram at the same time as the doctor introduced it-of course, I never mentioned "cancer", only that it was a lesion, and it would be fine after resection. My father is sensitive and suspicious, and now he lives in a cancer hospital. The doctor has been slow to reveal half a sentence to him. It is inevitable that he will be surprised and scared, and he can't just fool a word or two. After knowing the illness, my father became very calm, and we also behaved as usual, taking intravenous drip, eating, walking, chatting and waiting for the operation quietly. It's just that every time my father sees the information column promoting cancer in the corridor or the announcement of recruiting volunteers for new anticancer drugs, he always stops and stares for a while. This time is a great test for me. I can neither pull him away nor persuade him to be lenient. I just quietly and stand by and say a few words about what I know. I just hope that he will not associate "cancer" with himself.

The news that my father was going to have an operation soon spread among relatives. People have come to visit, and those who can't come also call to say hello. Whenever this time, my father always shows great optimism, talks easily with people who come, and plays a few jokes from time to time, without suppressing the sad atmosphere at all. Most people who come don't know the details. They smiled and cheered for their father, waiting for him to recover and leave the hospital.

During this time, I secretly looked up information on the internet whenever I had the opportunity, searching for everything about pancreatic cancer. The words that pop up are suffocating. The cases of Huang Ju, Jobs, Pavarotti and celebrities in politics, business and entertainment circles all seem to prove that the "king of cancer" is invincible, and it is difficult to win no matter how much money and top medical level. Knowing this, I forced myself to calm down. We tried our best to find the best experts, and we tried our best to cherish the present. Let God arrange the rest, live and die, and be rich in the sky.

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65438+February 10, the operation day finally came. My mother and I get up at 5 o'clock to get ready. Just after 6 o'clock, my father's three brothers came over, followed by my uncle, uncle menstruation and cousin. We formed a strong group of friends and relatives, giving my father the firmest spiritual support. Father doesn't talk much, because he hasn't eaten these days, and he is weak and has a stomach tube inserted, which is very uncomfortable. He closes his eyes and takes a nap at the first opportunity. The clock seems to be stuck with glue, and every second passes slowly. Nothing happened at 7: 00 and 7: 30. We stayed quietly by the bed, even afraid to breathe loudly, as if waiting for a verdict. At 7: 50, someone finally came and led my father to the operating room. I was only allowed to accompany him. After arriving at the entrance of the operating room on the fourth floor by special elevator, it was also blocked outside the yellow line. Father walked slowly into the drainage bag. I glanced at it and saw more than a dozen operating tables, full of armed medical staff, and the strong smell of disinfectant came to my face. Then, I was taken to the family waiting area outside another floor, where all the other relatives were. Cousins and cousins came over, and aunt bought a plane ticket and arrived at night. My uncle has already arranged everything, and all the relatives who come are led by my cousin to eat and live. My mother and I stayed with my father and were always at the disposal of the hospital. The only thing we can do next is to wait.

Hospitals at this level never lack surgery. The electronic screen shows that 84 operations were arranged on this day, and each column was marked with the bed number, patient's name and operation status. Soon after his father went in, his state jumped to "in surgery". Surrounded by the hustle and bustle, dozens of stools arranged by the hospital are simply not enough to sit on. Some people are standing, some are squatting, some are leaning against the wall, some are crying, some are shouting, and some are rambling, just like purgatory on earth. Finally, my mother couldn't help it, crying and venting her emotions in front of her father for so many days. I took a few deep breaths and held back my tears. I was by my mother's side, praying for my father. Just last night, the doctor told me bad news: the tumor has invaded the portal vein, which is very difficult. Blood vessel replacement may be needed during the operation. If you do, the difficulty and risk of the operation will further increase.

On the morning of 10, because the hospital was out of stock, I was told to buy artificial blood vessels from the pharmaceutical factory designated by the hospital. Half an hour after buying the blood vessel, the chief surgeon informed his family to go over and talk about it, telling us that we must replace the blood vessel, otherwise we can only stop the operation and sign it after agreeing to do it. I signed it trembling and didn't tell my mother about the risk of blood vessel replacement. In the afternoon 1: 20, the operating room informed me again that the organ had been removed, the blood vessels had been replaced, and the rest was sutured. In other words, my father survived the most dangerous and critical moment of the whole operation!

Outside the operating room, every second is a long test. My relatives took turns talking to my mother to comfort her, while I walked back and forth. From time to time, there was a broadcast informing the family to pick up the patient, and then a group of people rushed to the door in ecstasy. I envy them and stand upright, looking forward to hearing that familiar name. According to the doctor's initial estimate, the operation will take 7 hours, but due to the increase of blood vessel replacement, the time has been extended, and it is unknown how long it will take. It has been seven hours since the hour hand crossed 3 pm. How long will it take? How's it going inside? There is no answer, so we can only continue to wait nervously.

With the completion of one operation after another, there are fewer and fewer people waiting outside. When there are many people, I get bored when I make a noise. When there are few people, it will only increase more anxiety. After 6 o'clock, I finally waited for the news that the operation was smooth, but the patient was very weak and unstable after the operation, and should be transferred to ICU immediately. Dozens of medical staff pushed his father out of the operating room and quickly disappeared at the door of the ICU next to him. In just a few seconds, he saw his father's eyes closed, his body was full of pipes and wires, and he was breathing by the machine. 10 hours of long waiting, after the test of life and death, hovering on the edge of danger, thank God! Father's back!

After a while, a doctor came out of the ICU and told us how pessimistic the patient was now and asked his family to sign the critically ill notice. These days, I have heard similar "warnings" too many times, and I have signed countless words. I'm scared. The doctor's words did not affect my immersion in the joy of successful operation, and my nervous nerves were slightly relaxed-although experts have long told me that the completion of the operation is only the beginning, and postoperative recovery is more critical.

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The next morning, we were allowed to visit in the ICU, one person at a time, for a total of ***30 minutes. I went in first, put on protective clothing and disinfected my hands. The door inside opened and the huge ward was brightly lit. More than a dozen beds are evenly distributed around, separated into small rooms, and various instruments and equipment are placed around each bed. Large and small display screens are ticking and flashing, and medical staff are shuttling back and forth. When he walked to his father's bedside, he was still very weak, with a ventilator and his eyes glazed over. He can only communicate simply by nodding and shaking his head. The anesthetic effect has not completely disappeared, and he sleeps most of the time. He has too many pipes and wires on him. His hands and feet were tied to keep him from moving. I simply said a few words, told him to have a good rest, and then went to see his attending doctor for details. I saw on the computer screen in front of the doctor that the column of father was still marked "critical". The doctor said that with the maintenance of a large number of drugs, all vital signs are ok at present. For such a big operation, the blood in the wound should be coagulated as soon as possible to reduce blood loss. However, once the patient's body is newly replaced with artificial blood vessels, it will be an irreparable and terrible consequence, so instead, anticoagulants should be added to the blood. In this way, the recovery time of the wound will be greatly prolonged, which may cause.

Visiting hours will soon end. These days after coming to the hospital, I am used to being with my father at any time. Now I feel empty across a wall, but I am a little relieved to think that my father lives in ICU and has the most top-notch, comprehensive and timely medical care. During dinner, my father's cell phone suddenly rang in my pocket. It was from ICU. I was so nervous that I quickly connected. It turned out that my father woke up and clamored to see his family. Originally, this was not allowed, but my father was arguing so much that the medical staff had no choice but to make an exception and call us in. Four relatives rushed to my father's bedside. He looked very excited and said something in a daze, trying to get rid of the shackles. As soon as we calmed down, he was very obedient and immediately told us all to go out so as not to embarrass the doctor. After a while, the ICU called again, and my father made trouble again. This time, as long as I went in, I was still very excited, like a child. I don't seem to remember what we saw to comfort him before. His mind is a mess!

I started to panic and asked the doctor for help. In the eyes of a doctor who regards life and death as normal, his father's illness is not surprising at all. "It may be the reaction of anesthetics, it may be that abnormal liver function affects the central nervous system, or it may be that patients are too nervous after surgery and lead to stress reaction."

"How long will this state last? Will it cause permanent nerve damage? "

"It's hard to say how long it will last. It depends on the patient's physique. It may be just for a while, or it may be permanent. If it is really hepatic encephalopathy, it is quite dangerous ... "

This is the professional habit of doctors, who always have the worst results, never say anything to death, always put out all kinds of "possibilities", then ask questions and throw you a lot of technical terms you don't understand. From the perspective of a bystander, I can understand, but as a family member of a critically ill patient, I really want to get angry at this time-but I can't show it at all. Father is still confused, imagining that someone is going to persecute him, sometimes nervous and sometimes angry. He was relieved to see his familiar relatives around him. His memory is chaotic and short-lived. When he closes his eyes, he will forget what he just said. I held his hand and dared not leave half a step. I kept talking to him while pressing his hands and feet to relieve discomfort. After the operation, I stopped eating and drinking. Whenever my father cries out for thirst, I can only dip a cotton swab in some water and apply it to his chapped and peeling lips. The intestines are blocked, the gas can't be discharged, and the stomach is uncomfortable. Just had an operation and inserted a lot of drainage tubes. I can't press it. I will continue to massage my legs, and at the same time talk about other topics to divert his attention and barely relieve the pain.

I used to think, or simply imagine, that ICU is good except expensive, and it can provide patients with advanced medical care, comfortable environment and proper care. I just found out tonight that ICU has perfect facilities, convenient rescue at any time, and improves the probability of patients' survival. It is a nightmare! Bright lights, ringing instruments, whining patients, busy doctors and nurses, voices, shouts, trolleys rubbing against the ground, oxygen bottles colliding with each other, the crisp sound of glassware hitting porcelain plates during dispensing, and the dull sound of medical waste falling far into the trash can. In the middle of the night, dozens of beds and dozens of people have been arguing. In the hospital bed, there are critically ill patients who are full of tubes and have difficulty in moving. A good sleep is a luxury-unless medication is used. Nurses are very busy, not enough points, and patients can't be on call when they need them, not to mention trained and experienced professionals, who have no personal feelings and are completely immune to complaints and moans. It's illegal to come in like us, but nurses are happy to be at leisure and don't have to spend energy to deal with a seriously ill patient who is insane and overactive.

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For three days, my father didn't wake up. When he was really exhausted, he took a nap. Continue to talk nonsense after waking up and occasionally hit people. We are on duty in shifts to ensure that someone is at his bedside 24 hours a day. On the night of his insanity, the attending doctor prescribed a dose of medicine, which was an injection to protect his liver. The cancer hospital is out of stock, and it is not available in outside pharmacies. The doctor suggested that our family members try other big hospitals and hang the number of infectious diseases department to win sympathy. Maybe they can prescribe some medicine for us to take away. Obviously, it is illegal to do so, and the chances of getting the medicine are very small. My uncle used almost all the connections. My cousin and I split up and got enough medicine the next morning and sent it to ICU immediately. Results There was a communication problem between the attending doctor and ICU, and my father didn't use it until the third day.

Fear and despair crept into my mind. I'm worried that my father will be nervous and never come to his senses. I'm worried that he will die suddenly after a serious overdraft in body and mind, and he will die in confusion and great pain. These days, three patients in ICU failed to be rescued and were sent to the morgue. Reminds me of an expert's saying that "postoperative recovery is the key". After 65,438+00 hours of major surgery, my father survived. Who knows it's just a warm-up, and the real test is just around the corner. Father, son is calling you, so many people are around you, protecting you and expecting you, you must hold on!

65438+February 14, at six o'clock in the morning, the fourth day after my father's operation, we still took turns to accompany him. My mother got up to change clothes for my aunt. As a result, my aunt called: "Yes! Your dad has a bowel movement! Can defecate normally! Can drink water! " Then he said, "His mind suddenly woke up a lot! Don't talk nonsense, have a good attitude! It seems to have broken before. "

It is said that the night before dawn is the darkest. At this moment, no one can understand this sentence better than me and enjoy the happiness illuminated by this dawn!

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The subsequent plot, like a movie whose climax has passed, began to evolve into a happy ending. After staying in ICU for 5 days and 6 nights, my father turned back to the general ward, and all the physical indicators were chasing me in the direction expected by the doctor day by day. Although he is not completely out of danger, the results of biopsy have not yet come out, and the disadvantages of blood vessel replacement have dragged on his recovery mercilessly, we all believe that in the fierce struggle with the disease, his father has mastered the initiative and held his destiny in his own hands.

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Cancer is terrible and not far away from us. In China, more than 10,000 people are diagnosed with cancer every day. Behind every cancer patient is a group of suffering relatives and a scarred or even fragmented family. From time to time, the news reports the tragic situation of a certain patient. In the circle of friends, you can often see that water droplets are easy to raise. At the gates of major hospitals and along the roads, there will always be families of patients who are kneeling on the ground and desperate for help. My father is very lucky, he has the conditions to receive expert treatment, has surgery before the spread, has a large group of relatives as the strong backing, has so many friends who care about him, love him and help him, and most importantly, has the care of fate, so that he has survived all the difficulties, which can be described as the right time and the right place. No matter what will happen in the future and what the result will be, there is no regret. Only with a grateful heart can we live a good day, be worthy of everyone and be worthy of ourselves.

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When my father was in ICU, there was a square column opposite his bed with a picture on it-coincidentally, there was only one picture in the huge ICU ward with 19 beds-just where he could see it when he looked up. It's an open window. There are lakes, distant mountains, clouds, green trees and grass outside the window. At the end of the picture, the rising sun is bursting out, giving people infinite hope. Whenever I worry about my father and feel pessimistic, I will take a look at this painting. Indeed, no matter when or how bad the situation is, people can't lose hope. When you are in a desperate situation and can't move, hope is the last thing that can save you.

I want to send this document to all my relatives, friends and medical staff who care about helping my father. Thank you! Grateful!