A bereaved offspring

A bereaved offspring story

My dad's name was Ali Kartop.  A lot of people use to call him the fisherman.  His passion for fishing was unbelievable. 

Sometimes I think he loved fishing more than me.  He would be a father, yet always know how to be a friend and he was always full of energy.  My dad was always a hard worker and he would work 12 hours a day at times.

Dad use to get the worst pain in his left shoulder, it was so unbearable due to working so hard.  The pain in dad's arm got so bad that things like creams, hot wheat bags and chiropractors just did not cut it. 

We went to a specialist who works on muscle problems for athletes.  He examined dad and asked him to do an x-ray on his left shoulder.  The X-ray showed that dad did not have much cartilage in his shoulder, so they would have to saw down the bone for dad to move his arm freely.  Dad was booked to have the operation at St George Hospital on the 27th of October for his shoulder.

When most procedures are done under the general anaesthetic on an adult, doctors usually ask for a chest x-ray, just to see how their lungs are.  The day dad had to have his X-ray I could not make it due to work. 

Later that afternoon I received a phone call from my local doctor, all he said to me was "Figen can you come as soon as possible".  I knew from that point that something had gone wrong. 

I asked what it was that he had to tell me, but he said that he would tell me as soon as I get there.  When I reached his surgery, the secretary just sent me in.  Dad was in another room while my mum and my brother waited for me. 

Then the words came out "they found something in his X-ray".  When I went into the room dad was in, he was just sitting there silently.  He looked up at me; it was so hard to hold in the tears while I gave him a hug.

Dad had a 10cm thick carcinoma in his left lung, which had deteriorated his two ribs and also his spinal cord. This was the biggest shock that rocked my whole family and the fact that they found the cancer by accident. 

The next few weeks after that were such a blur that if you had asked me in the afternoon what I had for breakfast I could not tell you.  All we knew was that dad had an aggressive cancer that was malignant and spreading all over his body, so they had to do what they could and fast.

They had given dad all the radiotherapy that his body could handle; next on the list was chemotherapy.  Then they told dad that there was a new chemotherapy cocktail that they were trying, we were happy to try it, anything is better than nothing, but unfortunately it did not do dad any good as it just made him sick.  So the doctors had all agreed to just keep him comfortable.

During the six and a half months dad had to go through numerous surgeries.  The one that was most emotional was when they had to cut into his spin to remove the 2cm's of the cancer which stopping dad from walking. 

The surgery was a success, we must have had angels looking over us that day, but of course it was not the end of it.  The doctors said that dad would be able to walk again for at least 3 months.  The cancer had come back within 2 weeks.

Life was getting very hard both emotionally and physically for all of us.  We had moved dad to Calvary hospital because it was more equipped for his situation.  We had to keep dad entertained because he was so active, being in a room by himself during the day was no fun. 

The TV, radio, newspapers were forever flowing and I always brought a pack of cards so we could play as soon as I got to the hospital after work.  Dad made sure that there were biscuits ready for me that he had taken from the tea lady that does the rounds.

My niece's and brother's birthday was coming up so I asked if I could use one of the rooms in the hospital for a mini party.  Everything was approved for the big surprise. 

The night before the party dad had a craving for McDonalds, so I quickly stopped off at McDonalds then off to see dad.  We had a great night playing cards and eating Big Macs.  Every night when I said good bye I would always look back once more, just to see the big smile on dad's face... little did we know that night was the last night.

In the morning just before my mother and I had left to go to work we received a phone call from the hospital asking if we could get there as soon as possible. 

When we arrived dad was laying there with his eyes closed.  His breathing was so bad he could not open his eyes.  The doctor came into the room and said that dad was in a semi-coma due to a haemorrhage. 

We were told to say our goodbyes, I was not ready to say goodbye.  Friends and family always said that at least you have the opportunity to say goodbye and that his death did not happen suddenly in an accident. 

The truth is that either way it is just as bad and that you are never prepared for it even if you are expecting it.  From the day my father was diagnosed to the last day was the hardest six and a half months I will ever face.

Everone kept repeating that when a door closes another one opens.  It is difficult to understand this during a time like this. 

Hope is something that you do not have to understand or believe in, but the nature of it is comforting.  Being a CanTeen Member and looking at the smiles on each and every one of you, walking into a room not needing to tell you who I am or what I do, yet feeling like family, hope is something I will always have within me.

Dad, you will be with me always, your loving daughter Figen.

04/08/1945 - 07/05/2004