Elephants and Tea - December 2021 - 32

Caregiving CACTUS CANCER SOCIETY
Finding Grace
Through Grief
BY AERIAL DONOVAN
The transplant went off without a hitch, and
while it worked, the weeks afterward were horrible
because of the side effects he experienced.
I remember sitting in the chair by his bed as
he was being helped out of the bathroom, and
I asked how it was going. He looked me dead
in the face and angrily responded, " How do
you think it's going? " I deserved that. Cancer
had stolen my dad's dignity.
The last time I saw my dad alive, he had
been outpatient for a week, staying in an
apartment near the hospital. My ability to
travel in my third trimester was coming to
a close, but my dad was in a solid place. His
humor and kindness had returned, and his
apartment had a small balcony, which made
a difference after he had not gone outside for
months. There was renewed hope, and with
weeks left before my due date, I could see the
light at the end of the tunnel. We spent the
day together, just talking out on the balcony.
When it was time for me to leave, I burst
into tears. It felt uncomfortable knowing I
wouldn't see him for a bit, but when I came
back, I would have his grandchild in my arms,
and the time away would be worth it. With
a deep breath, I went cautiously back home
to Chicago.
Two weeks passed before my mom called
The first time I remember experiencing grief we were visiting
my grandfather in hospice. I was ten, he had prostate cancer,
and we were there to say goodbye.
It was shocking to see how much he had changed. He looked small in the bed, with tubes
running every which way. I loved being with him, but it was hard to stomach the smells while
processing what was happening. That night, I slept over at my cousin's house. She's a couple of
years older, and after we painted our nails, I asked if she thought Grandpa was going to get better.
She told me no and that he would die soon. I was angry. Tears ran down my face. He was
important to me, and we didn't see him often because of my dad's military career. I wished for
him to get better; I wasn't going to give up on him.
He died two weeks later. My dad went to Colorado by himself, and when he got home, he looked
tired. The oldest of four, he led his family, and ours, through grief. I was heartbroken that all my
wishing had done nothing. And even worse, my cousin was right.
Fast-forward twenty years: I am in my dad's isolation room with a paper gown and mask on.
The tubes running out of his bed weren't as nauseating as I remembered them being with my
grandfather. After previously having NHL, then MDS, my dad needed a stem cell transplant to
treat his newest diagnosis of AML. Various treatments and lots of blood transfusions bought
us enough time for me to take my parents to Hawaii, for one last hoorah. When we got back, he
was admitted to the hospital for the most grueling five month stay.
This time I was the oldest, guiding my family through decisions and being the voice of reason. I
flew back and forth from Chicago and tried my best to help my mom. My dad kept his chin up, and
I did too. This time, we believed things had to work because his first grandchild was on the way.
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DECEMBER 2021
to share that my dad wasn't doing well, and
within 72 hours, he had gone from good
numbers and a Pollyanna attitude to going
home. He'd relapsed and was out of options.
It was a blow to my mental health. The stress
took a toll, and I found myself in and out of
the hospital, mentally wishing the baby out so
my dad could meet her before his body failed
him for the last time.
He died just over a week later. I'd spoken to
him on the phone the night before, and I knew
in my gut it was coming. I hated myself for
not being home. The next morning my mom
called and relief swept over me. After months
of begging the universe to just give us more
time, the uncertainty was gone.
The baby came five days later, after pretty
much living at rock bottom in my head.
She had arrived three weeks early, but I was
grateful to not miss his funeral. Everyone was
talking about how thankful they were for her,
and all I wanted was my dad there.
When things settled, my mom came to visit
us often. She spoiled my daughter, and we took
her on trips. It started as a distraction tactic,
but I loved seeing my mom experience new

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Elephants and Tea - December 2021

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