and all of a sudden, it’s the end of February…

February is Riyadh Marathon Month. 

My last post was in November, when I promised more constant posts. I went away for a week with my husband on a work + pleasure trip to London. I met up with two YOU friends and had a great time! I came back to news that turned my world upside down, I’ve been trying to post about it and didn’t know where to begin. On the 30th of November we learned there was something concerning about my father’s abdominal ultrasound. On the 9th of December we found out he had stomach cancer. The past two months and a half have been long and hard.

Before my parents moved to Riyadh, I was busy getting their apartment ready. We had furnished it with the minimal basics two years ago, when they came for a couple of months. We had hope that they would move to Riyadh but it was only temporary. The apartment was originally my brother’s, who kept it because he came to Riyadh often and new it would come in handy if my parents wanted to come to Riyadh. We never thought they would move to Riyadh so my father could get cancer treatment.

Furnishing the apartment was a great distraction. I knew my parents wouldn’t be in the mood to choose throw pillows and paintings so I tried to think of every last detail and make sure the house felt like a home. I guess it was my way of coping with the diagnosis. I focused on the apartment and tried to get the bigger items like an oven and new sofa before they arrived. I tried to get all the kitchen essentials, down to a potato peeler and cheese grater. I went grocery shopping the day they arrived and discovered I didn’t know a lot about what they liked. I asked my younger brothers about what cheeses they preferred and what rice brand my mom liked to cook. Somehow them arriving was a great relief to me. It meant my father was here and would start treatment.

Nothing could have prepared us for how stressful each step of the way is, and each appointment reminded me of my son by milk R and his amazing mother. It made me realize even more, how strong she was. When R got his cancer diagnosis it was the middle of the pandemic and hospitals still had very strict precautions. Especially with immune compromised children. She had to take her son to his appointments by herself. Even her husband wasn’t allowed inside the hospital. Not even to drop off some clothes. R spent a week in the hospital when he got his chemo dose, it was a one week per month. Even though I did my best to help and be supportive I can’t imagine how lonely it must have been. Yet she managed and her optimism really helped R get through it.

Now, every time I walk into the hospital building where my father gets his treatment, I feel so many emotions. None of them are pleasant.

The Riyadh marathon was on February 8th, I had registered myself and 4 of my boys/boys by milk too. (Kids can only do the 4k) One of my younger brothers registered for the 10k with me. This was before my father’s diagnosis. Since my father was stable at the time we decided to go. It was nice to get away from it all.

My father was admitted into the hospital two weeks ago. They’ve stopped the cancer treatments until he is physically stronger. They believe the chemo will do more harm than good. It’s so difficult seeing my father like this. I feel so helpless. It seems like there is nothing I can do to help. I try not to show this to my dad or my mom. When my dad was first admitted, I would spend the night with my mom, so she wasn’t all alone in their apartment. She always insists she’s ok and is fine alone. But I remember how she always used to say how she could never imagine living all alone. In the beginning we believed my father would only be there for observation, then the days kept dragging by with no talk of discharging him. I was torn between staying with my mother, taking her to visit my dad, and my home and children. My husband has been very supportive but I have so many responsibilities, it’s been very hard. By the weekend I realized that I needed to ask for my brothers help, we started taking turns spending the night at my parent’s apartment. Sharing this responsibility with two of my brothers really helped. I think it also helped my mom not feel guilt that she was taking me away from my kids.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, it seems like a long depressing post. But maybe we need to talk about it, I know it’ll make me feel better and maybe it’ll help someone who is going through something similar.

It’s so difficult seeing a loved one go through this, especially a parent. My father is not the most cooperative patient and sometimes I feel like he’s giving up and that makes me feel so sad, angry and frustrated. How can he just give up?! It’s not fair. He needs to make an effort to get better, if not for himself, for us! Especially my mother, they have been married for over forty years. I can’t imagine how hard this is for her. She doesn’t talk much, she has no appetite, when I spend the night I sit on the recliner in her room and talk until she falls asleep. Then I sit a little longer to make sure she’s asleep. I know if I leave her to her thoughts she won’t get much sleep.

One of my younger brothers is staying with my father at the hospital. He’s doing so much for him and he never complains. He’s so good with my father and my father usually listens to him more than anyone else. I’m lucky have so many siblings, and we share the load. Though sometimes it feels like it’s all on me and it can be so overwhelming. I know its my fault, I’m still bad at delegating, though I’m getting better. Although it is a lot and I have come to realize that its ok to feel this way. When something this big, interrupts your life, it feels like the world should too. How can the world keep turning and everyone keep living their lives? That’s the thing, you can’t stop living, you have to keep living and cope with it. When my father was first admitted, my kids had exams, I only need to help my 6th grader study and I’m trying to teach him to be more independent but I still needed to be there for all of them, it was hard. I’m grateful we have a week vacation now. Ramadan is in a week and in between trying to balance everything else I’ve also been preparing for Ramadan. I’ve spoken about how I like to prepare some foods for Ramadan because Ramadan is about worship and not about sending hours in the kitchen. I am exhausted. Hopefully this week I can rest a little it has felt like I’ve been running since the beginning of December.

I’m sorry this is so long and all over the place, I just needed to write down my thoughts. Thank you if you’ve reached the end.