I felt my heart jump to my stomach the moment the doctor announced
"Prostate cancer," he repeated for the second time. His voice was steady, but not devoid of kindness. "He's lucky, we caught it early. With treatment, he has a strong chance."
I looked at Papa. I was trying to read his face, expecting a reaction but he was unreadable. He kept calm and still like he didn't hear or understand what the doctor said. He looked at me and gave me a little smile which I returned. I realized at that moment that he was just trying to stay strong like he had always done with any bad news.
I turned to the doctor. "So what's our next step?" I asked. I was sinking emotionally but I fought myself to stay strong and let my emotions not betray me.
"We wouldn't rush into any surgery yet. The treatment for now will be Casodex daily and Docetaxel injections every three weeks. But I'm not going to be in the country in the next few days. So I'll refer you guys to my friend in Enugu. He'll be the one managing your Dad till I'm back."
I nodded slowly. It was as if my mind was divided with one part present and the other lost in thought. I was thinking of the cost, the constant travel, the responsibility that fell on me now. As I was Papa's only child available.
I thanked the doctor and left his office. Papa tagged along. Outside he exhaled loudly, finally breaking his silence. "We’ll manage," he said, voice firm.
I held his hands and squeezed it a little. I was trying to reassure him that he wasn't and will never be alone in this journey. I was ready to stand by him at every step. Even though it might be tough. I wasn't ever going to abandon Papa when he needed me the most.
"Yeah, we will," I whispered.
It wasn't a surprise to me when managing Papa's illness became a struggle. I knew from the onset it wouldn't be easy. Leaving Aba very early in the morning to Enugu every three weeks for his injection. And, returning late at night with pains all over his body and exhausted.
In all these, Papa never complained. Not even when the chemotherapy began to weaken his body and the drugs sometimes messed with his appetite. I watched his faith grow stronger each day just as his frame shrunk a little too.
"This too shall pass." He'll always say whenever he's down and weak.
"Of course it will." I will add. Trying so hard not to kill his faith.
Then he'll pat my shoulder and say. "You're doing well, my son,"
I'll smile and wonder if I truly was. Maybe I was hiding my pain perfectly from him and the world around me. Because deep down within me, it was tough for me to see my soldier (Papa) beaten down by sickness each passing day. I might be an adult, but I'm still that adult who isn't ready to scale through life alone without Papa by my side. So seeing him become weaker each day messed with my head.
I tried to stay strong. But while I tried, life didn't slow down for me. The bills and responsibilities piled up each day. From my rent to feeding, transportation, medical expenses, and the stress on my health. Casodex was swallowing my savings, not to mention the Docetaxel injection, which was even worse.
I started being economical with my spending, skipping meaningless outings. I needed help.
I vividly recall one discussion that made me see the struggles in another light. I had helped Papa to the bathroom to pee and back into bed. One activity that has become so frequent with the minutes these days. His steps were slow, but his grip on my arms was tight.
As I covered him up with the duvet, I could feel his stare on me. I turned and asked him.
"What is it? Do you need anything else?"
He smiled. "No. No son. It's just that I never thought I’d rely on you like this."
I chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "What, you thought I'd be young forever?"
He laughed. A sound that was hard to hear these days.
I looked at him with surprise. "What?" I asked playfully.
"Nothing o. It's just the way you said it. But all I meant to say was It's funny that the boy I used to carry on my back and rush into the hospital when he was having a crisis is the one taking care of me now."
I sat down beside him and thought about what he said. He was right. My struggle as a sickler wasn't easy. But in all that Papa was beside me, fighting and spending money just to see me become the strong man I am today. As I thought about it more, I realized. Maybe it wasn't just about me taking care of him. Maybe this wasn't just about what the doctor ordered. Maybe it was for our bond to get stronger and for me to understand that life comes full circle so fast. One minute, you're strong and helping others, and the other minute, you need their help.
While you were helping them get strong, you were preparing them or saving them for the day it'll be your turn to be helped.
“It's not funny, Papa. It's just a lesson that no one has that monopoly of being strong all the time.”
