Yeah, activity in my families - when cancer did not come in - was what kept my people young too. -- Sin and Tacos aka Lesbobitca Land

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Date Posted: Sunday, October 19, 09:03:33pm
Author: Lij
Author Host/IP: adsl-99-14-209-60.dsl.bltnin.sbcglobal.net / 99.14.209.60
Subject: Yeah, activity in my families - when cancer did not come in - was what kept my people young too.
In reply to: AS 's message, "It's somewhat overdue." on Sunday, October 19, 06:12:46pm

My parents both came from good-sized Catholic families. Although, they had cousins who even have more sibling in their families. That's farm folk for you.

I went back to look at the average age at death of those in my parent's families (of those who survived past childhood - both had two children die young).

For my dad's side of the family that was:

8 siblings with an average age at death of 79 years. The one sister still living is at an age of 85 years.

For my mother's side of the family that was:

8 Siblings with an average age at death of 85 years. The one sister still living is at an age of 95 years.

My dad died at an age of 57 from cancer. Despite having broken legs 3 times (the also doctor re-broke his leg once - saying that he didn't like the way it had set), crushed an ankle (bulldozer rolled on him) and nearly dying from a auto crash on his honeymoon, dad was still very active until the cancer set in, although he had to walk with a cane since the ankle. Sometimes I think that it was that need for activity which kept him from taking the necessary medical steps (or simply seeing a doctor in the first place) which may have kept him from living longer.

As it was dad had to have a colostomy (colon cancer); but he went no further. The doctor assured dad and mom that he got it all, but I think he was just telling dad what he wanted to hear. I remember being very nervous before he died (I was 17 and it was 4+ years after the operation). He kept coming home from work (it was in the fall or I would have been with him) and lie down on the couch and go to sleep. The doctor did an autopsy when dad died and the cancer was throughout his abdomen, even into his heart which failed.

At that time a classmate (also a distant cousin of mine through my dad and the classmate's mother) was concerned about his father with the same cancer. He was undergoing chemotherapy and that is the first time I had ever heard about that procedure for cancer. And there I was wondering why dad was not doing the same as he was getting sicker. It didn't help to deal with his passing. My classmate-cousin's father died later in the school year.

Mom on the other hand died at the age of 96 and her sister of 95 is still living. I kinda hope I take after her. I'm 60 right now. But being a man, I'm just hoping for 15-18 more years.

It's good that someone go to see your uncle and I hope your mother can do that. I didn't see anyone for the first few months I was away. I don't think that figured into my relapses which were caused by MRSA and C. diff. But I know I perked up after a few cousins stopped in to seem. My cousin who farms our land even dropped by in his semi-trailer a few times to see me. He had been taking grain down to the port on the Ohio just west of where I was in a nursing home. The staff got a kick out of that!

But that was the problem with where I was. For financial reason I went to a hospital in Evansville, 60 miles from home. Then I went to a rehab hospital in the same town. I got within a week of going home, but MRSA sent me to another hospital in Evansville (I got really sick). Then the rehab hospital wouldn't take me back so I ended up in the nursing home in Evansville. There, I got C. diff. and that almost killed me. Back to the hospital for two weeks. Then back to the nursing home and so emaciated I've had trouble getting back to normal even to this day. Even back home I've had MRSA send me back to the hospital, but not for 5 years now. That last time was the worst. I had such an infection that my body went stiff. I couldn't even bend my legs or move my arms. Mom called the ambulance and they had a helluva time getting me out of the house.

But that's all a part of the joys of growing old!

. . .

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