I remember the day my Mum called and told me not to panic but Dad was being referred straight to hospital from the Doctors as they were concerned about his chest. The worry, panic and emotions that day were tough enough, but then 7 months later and 3 surgeries later came the day that I went to see Dad to ask him how his consult went with the lung specialist, only to be answered with ‘I have a tumour’. My initial reaction was thinking it was a joke, not that one would joke about this, but I went into a bubble, a ‘not real’ place, a place that is so hard to explain. Mum went on to inform me that it was called Mesothelioma, and that it couldn’t be cured. They both tried to be light hearted about it; this was the way of my fantastic parents, they always put us kids and our feelings first. It just didn’t make sense to me, I kept thinking ‘but how could this possibly be happening’, we all thought Dad had a pneumothorax from falling out of a tree and now I am hearing that my Dad has a terminal disease.  Our world had been turned upside down.

 

My Dad worked as a Carpenter in the earlier years of his working life, however he hung up his tools and settled into a security job when I was a baby. I will be 33 in 2013 so it was many years ago that he worked as a carpenter. He tried to think back to the jobs that he did that may have exposed him to asbestos and there were only a couple of incidents, but it only takes the once, that one time and then 20-40 years later down the line you suffer the consequences and are stripped of your life.

 

Once Dad was diagnosed we started his regular sessions with the oncologist. We were told prognosis was really hard with this cancer but generally patients can expect to survive 6 –12 months from diagnosis, and in some cases longer; but no longer than 5 years. In the back of my head I was conscious that although Dad was diagnosed in June 2012, his symptoms first started in November 2011. Dad remained very positive and strong throughout, a true inspiration.

 

Dad became progressively worse in November 2012 and so I moved back into my parents home to help care for him. He spent a lot of 2011 prior to diagnosis in and out of hospitals so he wanted to remain at home after diagnosis. The nurses that visited prepped us with what would happen, how it would happen. Those conversations are ones that we all hope never to have.

 

Dad lost his battle with Mesothelioma on 19 December 2012 aged 73; leaving behind my Mum Sandra, four children Lynda, Rachael, Paul and me (Lisa), seven grandchildren Erin, Joe, Harry, Ella, Amy, William and Libby, any many many more family and friends. He fought hard and is a true inspiration for how he sustained such a strong and loving attitude. A wonderful family man, a wonderful man. We all knew everything he did was for us. He was loved by everyone that had the pleasure of knowing him and we all miss him like crazy. Although we can’t change this horrible reality we have to face, we can honour his memory, we can ensure others know the dangers, and we can do our bit to help those that have already been exposed.

 

Dad often spoke about trials and wanting to volunteer, however it was too late for him. I want to make my Dad proud by raising as much as I possibly can for Mesothelioma UK as to ensure others get the chance to take part in trials, and to ensure crucial research can continue into finding ways to diagnose this disease earlier on, and the most hopeful and desired result of all is achieved ….a cure for Mesothelioma.

 

We love you Always and Forever Dad………