February 24th, 1973: Now there is a new worry. Dad has cancer of the bone. Yup. Now there's a new spot just off his shoulder that's cancerous. Dr. Bunting came down and clued us in on everything. And, they're going to try burning each off with cobalt treatment. But there's still a helluva chance of things going well.
February 24th, 2013: Always looking on the bright side, I guess. We got word that dad had more than just his lung(s) and liver to worry about. An area around his shoulder showed up bad, too. And yet, I concluded that days entry with optimism.
I don't remember whether the original tumors showed up on one lung, or both. There was also the liver. Now the bone. Details and memory are vague on this. If I recall, it was his right shoulder. The new spot must have been detected by x-rays. They must have been keeping the x-ray technicians busy, monitoring the situation.
That, or dad may have acquired a pain in his shoulder, mentioned it, and they went looking for the source of the problem. Metastasis. The cancer was spreading.
Based on my diary entry, Dr. Bunting made a trip to the house to fill us in on the latest development.
I had to drop a "swear word" in for good measure that day. "Helluva," was a word Jerry Kramer used throughout his diary, "Instant Replay." The book that influenced me to keep a journal during dad's illness.
I just can't remember every last detail of what was happening. I wish I'd had the discipline to be more through in my writings.
Obviously. Things were going downhill at a pretty steady rate.
What are the stages cancer patients are said to go through? Anger, denial, and acceptance are a some of them. Never, did I see dad angry. Never, did I hear "Why me?" He was probably aware of his fate by this time, or well before.
I was the one playing the denial role.