Dennis' Story

The day that changed our lives...

In the early months of 2005, my dad began to deal with headaches which he had never experienced before. He was quiet for a long time about the amount of pain he was feeling with his headaches. By May, he was fixing up our backyard for my wedding reception which would be held there. While he complained little, we began to notice more and more that he was in some pain. But my dad never complained about anything, so when signs started becoming more visible, we knew something wasn't right.

The wedding day came and went and yet the headaches continued. It was a warm summer day in early June when my husband and I decided to drive down to Salt Lake City, Utah, from Logan, where I was attending school to visit my dad. My mom had called to tell me that he was dealing with terrible headaches and now nausea and vomiting and that she was now going to take him to the emergency room. I came down from Logan to sit with my younger sister, Ambree. We waited only a short time and mom and dad were back home.

Dad went straight to the bedroom to lay down while mom told us that the doctors believed he had some kind of a sleeping disorder. We were much relieved to hear this news but mom was not, she said she didn’t feel right about the diagnosis and that dad didn’t feel right about it either. But they had decided to let him come home and rest and go to a sleep disorder clinic on Monday (this was a Saturday). As the day went on, mom continued to grow antsy about the situation and continued to believe something wasn’t right. I finally sat down with her and told her that maybe she should go with her gut instinct and get a second opinion.

At that very moment the phone rang and the woman on the other line asked to talk to dad. While he was pretty out of it because of the medication they gave him he talked to the woman and only gave short, quick responses to a series of questions she seemed to be asking. He hung up and started to go back to sleep. A few minutes later we woke him up to see what the phone conversation was all about since we realized the number on the caller ID was that of the hospital he had just visited. He told us, “the lady said something about finding some fluid on my brain in the CT scan and I should get that checked out on Monday.’ At this point we grew more leery about the sleep disorder diagnosis. So mom lifted up dad immediately and took him to the car, she would go by the original hospital and insist she get a copy of the original CT test and would head to another hospital in the city for a second opinion.

The Call...

My sister and I waited at home for what seemed like forever. We couldn’t eat or sleep or watch TV our guts told us something wasn’t right. It was the most quiet I remember our house being as we waited in agony for some answer. The phone rang late that night and I talked to my mom. From the word “Hello” I knew my “gut feeling” was right and that something was very wrong. She told me to get my sister and put her on speaker phone with me, that did it, we both knew something was terribly wrong. I remember pushing the speaker button with a shaking hand and I remember my heart racing.

She told us that the doctors found something on dad’s brain, some kind of a growth that would have to be removed. The tremble in her voice was more than we could handle, we both cried and held each other. Mom said we needed to stay calm and wait until they knew what it was for sure. She also said we should get a ride to the hospital as soon as possible as he would be in surgery first thing in the morning and the doctor wanted to talk to all of us. My grandparents took us up to the hospital and as we drove…we sat in still silence, you couldn’t even hear each other breathe.

When we arrived at the hospital that night my dad looked like our dad, smiling and optimistic. We both jumped into his bed next to him and cried. Dad told us not to cry that he was sure it was just a growth that would be easy to remove, in fact he repeated this over and over and seemed so confident in his theory. Never, did I want him to be more right than at that very moment! The doctor did come in and talk to us and said they were not sure what the growth was other than it did look like some kind of a tumor to him.

The word tumor itself draws a quivering in your chest. However, he did say that it looked as though the tumor was in an easy spot to remove and the surgery would be fairly simple, well as simple as brain surgery can be. His words were not reassuring to me as all I could hear was the word tumor ringing in my head. After the doctor left, dad continued to tell us he was sure it was not a tumor to worry about. Again, wanting to believe him but knowing deep down something was wrong. That night I remember sitting with him until dad or the doctor’s said it was time to leave.

The ride home...

 For the first time, my mom, Ambree and I were all together facing head on what we had just heard. We walked in a very somber mood to the car, the world moving around us but feeling nothing inside. We drove home that night, some of us in tears, some of us in silence. How do you drive amongst people living their everyday lives, facing their everyday troubles when we were trying to drive facing a pain that had just slammed us in the chest that day. We woke up that very morning having no idea that the day ahead would change the course of our lives. How were we supposed to sleep, to eat, to drink….to breathe. It seemed like it was so difficult to just breathe.

In Each Other's Arms

After a night of no sleep, some phone calls to family member, sharing of memories and praying, we got ready to head back to the hospital to face what would be the challenge of our lives. We got to the hospital just in time to see the doctor in with dad. They had decided to take him in earlier than planned in order to take on the long procedure in the quickest manner possible. We prayed with him and hugged and kissed him, lost in tears and fears yet, he comforted us saying it would be ok. Grandma and grandpa showed up just as he was being wheeled away for surgery. Never have I seen such heartache as I saw in my grandparents that summer morning. Perhaps I have yet to understand the pain of a parent who sees their child sick. Fear took over us and we all cried in each others arms.

Magnitude of Love

What happened next was one of the sweetest memories of my lifetime. A small hospital waiting room began to slowly fill with people, people who loved my dad. That room was too small for us so they moved us into a larger area which too filled to capacity. This image will never escape me, it was a room full of people who loved my dad and loved us and not one of them left for food or drink but we all sat together some crying some laughing, some silently some impatiently. We gathered together on the floor and I remember standing back and taking in this image. It was more than I could ever describe, more beautiful than any sunset, any beach, any mountain any beauty of nature I have ever seen to this day. It was our gift from above. Those that were there that day will never understand the magnitude of love that emulated in that room in a hospital in Salt Lake City.

Our Gift

That day in surgery a rare malignant, fast growing tumor called a Medulloblasotma was removed from my dad's brain. The next 2 1/2 years brought radiation, chemo, sickness, weight loss and weight gain, joy and sorrow, hope and disappointment. Our Angel Dennis returned home to his father in Heaven on October 16, 2006 at 7:02 pm after courageously battling a disease that took over his body--but never his life.