Why I Ride

At the end of May 2006, my dad started acting funny. Sleeping all the time, not eating (and anyone who knows my dad knows how serious of a symptom this was), getting lost in familiar areas. One day, as our family was going out for dinner, he barely spoke a word or touched his food. The next day, he didn't speak at all, couldn't do up his seat belt, and I had to lead him around to walk and remove his shoes.

Doctors could tell us nothing. First it was a vitamin B12 deficiency. Then his brain was swollen, so he was put on anti-swelling drugs and sent home.

In August he had a seizure and his brain was swollen again. In September, he was diagnosed with primary central nervous system lymphoma. The doctors put him on corticosteroids before chemo, but the drugs made his entire personality change. He wasn't sleeping at night. My mom would wake and find him in the living room, reorganizing binders. He was either extremely emotional or extremely angry. At one point, he told me I wasn't his daughter and that he wanted me out of the house. I began to think that he would hurt me in one of these fits. Well, his cancer would hurt me. Real dad would never even think of such a thing. I was eighteen years old and sleeping in my little sister's bed out of fear.

Finally, my mom told the doctors at Princess Margaret that we couldn't watch him at home - it wasn't safe. He continued his treatment at PMH but still managed to escape from the hospital during his chemo treatment, walking down College Street, IV and all. After that incident, he was assigned a 24-hour nurse. After chemo, he was allowed to come home and made trips to PMH for radiation. My mom quit her job to take care of him. I struggled in school. In the end though, we made it out okay.

Following radiation, my dad continued to have regular MRIs. There were areas of the brain that were affected that would never recover. His balance and coordination were off, and he had difficulty initiating tasks. Moreover, he was always anxious, constantly worried for himself and the rest of the family. Still, he joined the Rotary Club of Etobicoke, saw psychologists and occupational therapists. Last October, we added a new member to our family: Wallace, the cutest Scottish Terrier you will ever meet. Wallace was a good (although occasionally troublesome) companion for my dad and the rest of us.

Before Thanksgiving of this year, my dad was doing a program with Toronto Rehab and was really excited about the progress he was making. The staff there were absolutely wonderful, helping him with cognitive exercises, his walking, doing things by himself. And then, just as quickly as progress was made, it was undone.

He had a couple of falls. He complained of numbness in the left side of his body. He started having headaches again. However, I wasn't too worried. After all, his MRI four weeks earlier was completely clear. Even his oncologist didn't want to have another MRI and CT scan, as he was certain it would show nothing. The staff at Toronto Rehab pushed for tests, and I am so grateful for that. The Wednesday after Thanksgiving, he was admitted to Princess Margaret again. The tumors were back. On Friday, he was moved to their palliative care and lost mobility. He was still undergoing five days of chemo "to slow the growth."

When my mom told me, I sobbed. That whole weekend I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't understand how the cancer could work so fast. I didn't know this three years ago, but this type of cancer always comes back. We had three cancer-free years with my dad - some people aren't so lucky.

He is currently at the Dorothy Ley hospice - a beautiful facility. I hope he can find acceptance, and I hope he experiences no pain.

I hate cancer, and I love my dad. Cancer may win this battle, but I am optimistic that one day it won't for anyone else. On June 12th and 13th, I will be riding for myself and for him. My mom once said, "Your father has an extraordinary will to live," and I do, too. I am riding so that his dream can be realized, so that others can overcome cancer and truly live.

To donate to me or the rest of the team, click here:
http://www.conquercancer.ca/site/TR/Events/Toronto2010?px=2242172&pg=personal&fr_id=1311

Your support is greatly appreciated.