Chapter Ten: Prostate Cancer and lessons from my dad’s deathbed.…

Going back to Misri (Egypt)

One of the most admirable attribute in my father was his determination not to let his past cloud his future and focus. He was sadly a man who had seen not a very comfortable foundation in life. He would once in a while share with me highlights of his struggles as a young indigenous Kenyan in the colonial era Nairobi and Nakuru. He never shied away from talking about his challenges with having two wives and seventeen children too….

..What was unique in his narrations however was the lack of details that could make me emotional about his past. He deliberately kept away the frustrations that he faced from his kin and friends in the course of life. He elected instead to share the successes that came out of his determination and stuck to the highlights. In as far as possible, he always made sure he never gave out names of the people who betrayed him in life, looked down upon him as a young person and a parent or wrote him off as a human being…

He closed his highlights using these proverbial words," Giving you so much details about my suffering and the people who contributed deliberately or unknowingly to the same is like going back to Misri (Egypt). In order to move forward, you must always limit your stories of Misri to your children. They may end up antagonizing them with those who contributed to your frustrations or discomfort. That is not an experience that you need your children to get involved in righting wrongs done to you or holding grudges for. Make your life better by rewriting the script that was handed to you by your kin and friends"…..

I am not very sure I need not share my life experience in detail to avoid eliciting painful emotions in my children or my readers. You be the judge……….

Prostate problems:

About the year 2010, when I was working in Kisumu, my father called me and asked that I go see him in our rural home. A few hours later, I was on the road to pay him a visit. My rural home is about fifty five kilometers from Kisumu and a drive there took less than an hour. I was usually able to make it home and back in Kisumu the same day……….

When I got home, he shared with me about his recent difficulties in passing urine at night. How he would feel his bladder very full yet unable to pass urine to considerably empty it and give him comfort to get back to sleep. I had no idea what could have been the cause of such a problem …………..

……….There are times he would be concerned about the way the drugs made him unable to control his urine flow as well. This placed him in a state of fear and shame for he did not know when the leak could take place. This affected him a lot more as it began to make him withdrawn from participating in activities that required him to be in public for long. He demanded that we seek alternative solutions to his prostate problems including a surgical approach……

My brothers George and Willis to a lead role in making a follow up on his medication and the numerous visits he made to different specialists over the following years. A surgery was recommended to remove the prostate gland as that was one of the interventions that was applied in some cases. The operation brought one of the first family conflict I was to face around my father's sickness. A conflict that he helped to solve later that year….

………….

Family conflicts are not very comfortable I can say. When you end up at loggerheads with your own siblings; it never becomes interesting. The tension that can arise from a family conflict is awkward for most people. Throw in an ego here and another there and you have a tinderbox waiting to explode from siblings tearing into each other. ………..

………….Our father, in his old age never wished to witness his children engaged in an infighting and this obviously hurt him a lot. I was based in Kisumu then so I never got to visit him in his post operation hospital bed. I would be able to see him when he was discharged and back in the village…

My meeting with my dad post operation yielded one of the most important lessons in my interactions with him. He had asked that I travel to the village to have a chat with him about our experience with his operation and the conflict that he was aware it generated. So I went and sat next to him in a warm quiet afternoon. In his characteristic low speaking tone, he engaged me in a conversation that changed my approach to family contributions.

……..

… "Tom, I understand you frustration with your siblings. It is okay to be angry at them considering that you have just come out of a spell of being unemployed. That much is not contested".

He took a long pause which was characteristic of him when he needed his words to sink equally slowly but permanently.

…"You see Tom, this is the way I want you to face similar situations in the future for they shall occur either to me again or to someone else".

….

"When you come from a large family, a lot of assumptions are made by everyone on who takes responsibility for any problems"

My father went on, "I would like to tell you two things my son. One is that you have siblings who have different capacities and financial muscles to flex in such moments. Embrace all of them with their failings and strengths alike"

"In future, when you are faced with a similar situation that needs collective input from all your siblings; I advise you as follows. Assume you were an only child and ask yourself what you would do if you were born alone. Then proceed to do what you would have done as an only child in such cases like the one of my operation. Always remember, what you did during my operation is what you could have done as an only child. Be at peace that you did your best. I appreciate you"

…….

Later that Christmas, our father would summon all of us to the village and gave the same analogy to all my brothers present. He asked that we live in harmony despite the events around his prostate operation. We did finally drop our egos and all our individual pride and moved on as a family all as a result of my father's mediation talent.

Enter Prostate Cancer:

…….

Around the middle of the year 2015, my brothers Willis and George took up the responsibility of making a follow up on my dad's discomfort that the operation failed to mitigate. They took my father to Aga Khan Hospital in Nairobi from where the news that my father had stage four prostate cancer. They held a counselling session and broke the news to our father before sharing with the family members. To say I was devastated will be an understatement. I was very angry.

I became angry from what I considered as life being unfair to my father. To me, he had lived a very fruitful life where he supported and guided numerous people and did not deserve to get cancer. I was angry from the thought of how my father had lived a life of deliberate consciousness to his diet and physical wellbeing. He always ate healthy and made sure he was active in one activity or another. I was angry that we had believed that our father's operation had eliminated the risk of cancer only for us to learn that it was not only in his body but also going to kill him in about a year. I was so angry.

My father was able to make a visit to my house in the company of my brother Lawrence, his wife and son and we had dinner together. This turned out to be the last time my father would be on his two feet unaided in Nairobi………..  He would never be able to make it back to Nairobi alive again………..

As a family, we sank into frantic efforts to extract a different medical opinion on the condition of my father. I guess we all believed that it was not possible that the prostate cancer diagnosis was right. We were probably in denial. We took the images of his scans to several other Oncologists and Physicians who all confirmed that indeed our father had prostate cancer that had spread extensively in his body. They used the medical word metastasized to explain the spread to other parts of his body.

………….

During the second half of the year 2015 and the first half of 2016; I was not in employment which made me able to travel to the village to be with my father in his final year of his life. I recall the first conversation we had after he was diagnosed with cancer. I arrived in the village in the afternoon which was more or less my usual arrival time.

"Tom, how are you doing today?" My father inquired when I sat next to him in his house.

"I am fine dad", I replied while paying a lot of attention to him.

"Have you got another job yet? How is Nyakonyango and your daughter?", He continued our conversation with his usual opener.

……….

" I know how bad you feel about my sickness and the impact it has had on all of you my children" the conversation continued " You have all done your best which extended my lease of life so you do not have to feel very helpless"

Between an interruption by a phone call here and a short visit by the numerous people who loved my father, we were able to keep our conversation on track. Usually, if my father had an important conversation to hold; he would politely ask any visitors to give him some time with whoever he was speaking with. They would oblige.

"Tom, cancer is a bad disease and I urge you all to get tested so you do not end up with the myriad of complications it causes. This I tell you as a man who knows what it can do to you" , my father went on.

"So how do you feel inside your body dad?" I asked.

"Many times, I feel the discomfort around my pelvis and challenges with irregular bowel and bladder movement. I hope however that it will get better"

"Yes, all will be well dad. We are working on the best way to make you comfortable", I assured my old man.

"I know the disease will spread yes", He stated with a lot of certainty. "However, please make sure you always tap my brain before cancer reaches there. Do not mind if I become crippled, if my brain works; always come get knowledge and wisdom from me"

This to me was the level of determination I needed to see from my father, who has always been a beacon of hope and an inspiration to me.

"I know you wanted to take me to India and I already got my passport ready" He waded into the uncomfortable part of his sickness.

I found it rather uncomfortable because I knew we were headed to having a discussion about the terminal stage. My dad however, was a strong willed person who valued honesty. He did not have any lethal dose of honesty as he would take in any amounts from anybody. He gave the same level of honesty to those he spoke with.

"I realized you no longer speak about the trip which means there is something you know about it but do not want to speak out" My father said with confidence. "Remember what I have told you. Despair not if you are not able to get me cured as long as I can speak, I will be of value to you and everyone around"

…...........

In as much as I thought that I was mentally prepared for my father's imminent death; I was not prepared to hear him telling me that he was prepared to die as well. When he called me one day to tell me that, I was more devastated than before.

My phone rang as usual and I could hear my father's voice coming through as very feeble. This bothered me.

"Tom, I hope you and family are well?" He opened the conversation.

"Yes, they are dad" I responded amid great discomfort with his very low voice. "You sound very weak today, have you eaten and taken your drugs? How are you feeling today?"

……,"Tom, I am afraid I am not going to get better. I have a very strong feeling that I will not be able to live beyond the end of this year. Please come home tomorrow"

……….

Upon arrival, he shared with me his latest deterioration and associated discomfort. He had fallen down when he tried to walk and thought that he was finally paralyzed which to him was a sign that he was nearing his final days. We held a long chat around his health with me encouraging him to hang in there. 

..We spoke about his past as well and many other aspects of life. I then asked him to go have a rest and was glad to see him support himself to bed feeling a little stronger. It was still my time to encourage my father. To give him the strength he needed to keep the spirit, body and mind going.

The next morning, our conversation was even tougher.

"Tom, I have done my part and impacted on several people in the course of my life", my dad began in his now feeble voice.

"I look back and feel happy that I raised you all into the people you have turned out to be. Please be good to those around you and carry my name with dignity" He requested.

I was feeling very emotional about this conversation but I knew it had to happen nonetheless. It was time to face the truth from a man who knew his body and felt his body better.

"I do not see myself making it to the end of this year 2015 however you must hold on and care for your own individual families" He dropped the bombshell on me.

I looked away to avoid my father seeing my eyes water with emotions. I was not going to let him see me cry for him. Not here, not now and not ever. He needed my strength to be stronger, my hope to be hopeful and my determination to be determined.

"What makes you come up with such a conclusion dad when you are taking medication which will make you better?" I asked hoping to derail him from his line of thought.

"We have to accept that you and I know that I will not make it alive and it is therefore important that I prepare myself as well as my loved ones for my ultimate death", he stuck to his narration.

I felt some sense of emptiness inside me. Almost that of hopelessness but also had to appreciate that my father had been around for more than 80 years.

He looked into my eyes and continued," You are now an adult, a husband with a family. I wish you well in your stay around this world. There are however a few issues that I want to share with you"

"Okay, we can continue the talk dad" I now urged him. If anything, he was the one who had asked that I go see him in the village.

"I will die and I would like take note of the following issues clearly. You may have to speak about them during my funeral and let people know that I am the one who wished them" he went on.

This is the time the reality struck me that my dad was indeed going to pass on. I respected his feelings and premonitions that he held about his state of health. The discussion became very direct thereafter.

"When I finally die, I expect you to follow these instructions. They are my final wishes and the only way you can honour me".

The tension within me was palpable. I wore a strong face and braced for the impact by the rest of the conversation.

"I shall be buried next to my two sons Fred and Peter at the family cemetery. My head will face the gate unlike them who are facing the fence. That is how in our Luo culture, old men are laid to rest in their graves. That is known by many people so there will be no need to even bother"

A long tense silence followed. My father was a good orator and even greater at delivering information that he needed to sink in. He had this characteristic pause for one to reflect upon his words. The rest of the conversation was specific on how he expected us to handle his funeral.

"I am a very well known old man. I have made a huge impact on the lives of many and in the larger society. My funeral will not be a small matter. There will be hundreds of mourners to pay their last respect to me" He went on. "Please accord each and every person who has come to lay me to rest the highest level of respect. Treat them as I treated them when they interacted with me"

"Your friends will also be present in large numbers, that much I appreciate because my children made as many friends as I did based on the way they related with people. Welcome them and let them condole with you"

I was almost in a trance but again had a duty to listen to what my father had to say as his wishes.

"There is a likelihood of people making large contributions towards my funeral, please do not use their contributions to bury me in an eighty thousand shilling coffin. You better use the monies to send orphans and the poor children to school than make my funeral full of pomp and end up having children in the village failing to get to school due to lack of fees", he stressed.

"Upon my death, do not engage in any fights around the houses in Umoja One, Bar Kober and Nakuru. Let your mothers enjoy the fruits of their patience by earning a living from these properties".

For me, this was a critical wish. I have witnessed families disintegrate over property rights. If this would happen in our family over my father's property, I swore at this point that I would not be a party.

"When I purchased the house in Nairobi, your mothers had to endure years of a marriage where they only had the basics. This was because I needed to pay the mortgage for the house. Now that all of you made it alive, they should both enjoy the proceeds of the houses and elect whoever they would like to inherit their individual shares"

That there was his most passionate appeal to me. I felt like I was watching a movie as I had never at any point in my life imagined that my own father would share with me his final wishes.

Our conversation ended after we held a series of chats on general issues and he asked that I allow him to rest. I stayed in the village with him for another week and he appeared to be feeling better then I traveled back to Nairobi.

One many nights, I woke up in the middle of the night and cried for my father. I had nightmares about his death and funeral. It was tough to be focused for me after that conversation in the village. I was deeply affected psychologically …………. I was shattered as a son to my friend and father.

One Saturday afternoon towards the end of November 2015, I was having my car serviced at a garage in South C Nairobi while I cracked jokes with the mechanics and everyone else. I can be a very funny person if I decide to, just like my father and most of my siblings. We were raised around laughter from our parents. We cracked jokes after dinner as a family and laughed into the silence of the night many nights.

My phone rang and it was my father on the other end of the line.

"Tom, I need you to come home again and urgently. I am not getting better at this and feel even more strongly that I will die even sooner!"

"What has changed again dad? I thought we had a deal that you would hang on the last few weeks we had our long talk", I asked in panic.

"Unfortunately, I know my body better son. I do not see myself making it. I want you to come home immediately", he requested one more time.

"I had plans of travelling to see you on Thursday. Can we work with that day if you do not mind?", I appealed to him.

"Thursday is too far Tom. You will most likely find me dead by then. I urge you to drive home as soon as you can. Do me that favour I ask of you my son. I should see you again", he reiterated.

Then I noticed that I had no choice but to respect my father's wishes. He continued after a long pause.

"One more request, please contact your brothers Jeff and Steve and ask them to join you. I realized that I need to repeat the wishes I shared with you in the presence of your brothers as witnesses lest you be accused of making them up when I finally die"

I got off the phone and just slumped into the boot of my station wagon. I was lost of words and even more worried than ever before. My mechanics inquired why I had suddenly lost my enthusiasm and stopped the jokes. Immediately after, I made a phone call to my brother Steve in Mombasa who stated that he could not travel to the village earlier than the Saturday following. I knew we would pick my brother Jeff from Kisumu on our way.

I called my father to inform him of the immediate unavailability of Steve. His response had the humour my father always had.

"Okay Tom. Do not worry if your brothers are unable to join you. It is unfortunate for you that it is only you and I who are jobless for now. This means that I will not be giving you very long notices to come to the village. Please come tomorrow".

I did another dawn drive to the village on my own. I was able to find my father quite weak but stable. He was able to walk but not for long distances. I kept him company for several days as I waited for my brothers to join me on Saturday. My wife joined in as well together with our daughter Amor.

When my two brothers finally made it to the village, my father repeated the same wishes he had shared with me. He asked that we respect them and implement them upon his death. One key addition made in his wish was when he stated, "When I die, do not mourn me for too long. Remember, it is me who has died and not you. Please have me laid to rest as soon as you can and get back to your jobs and family and stay on course".

……………

"I called Tom one week ago knowing that I was going to be dead before today. Now that I have been able to meet my three sons; I am not only going to be alive today but I will be alive into the year 2016". We walked him out of the home as we chatted together. And that was the last day my father ever walked on his two feet. He would be consigned to a wheelchair for the remaining part of his life.

One afternoon in December of 2015, I took my friend Andrew Owuor to visit my father in his sick bed. Andrew has been a friend for several years and was well known in our family. When we finally sat down and were finding out how he was faring, he made the following interesting and memorable remark.

"You know gentlemen, I have been a very vibrant person all my life and have never been sick and grounder on any day. However, if one is having a healthy and flawless life they may be tempted to think that they are God. This cancer is a way of letting me know that I, Arodi Kochola, I am not God!"

Death of my father: the mourning.

My old man was able to live for the fast half of the year 2016. His health deteriorated pretty fast. We had him taken to Kisumu Hospice and place him on medication in an effort to make him stay alive. I watched my father suffer a level of pain I would never wish for anyone. 

Cancer destroyed my father and reduced him to a human being who would barely walk, attend to his bodily functions or sustain a conversation for an hour without running out of breath. He lost the battle on 19th July 2016, about 8 months after he promised my brothers Steve, Jeff and I that he would be alive into 2016. Sadly though, he died within the period the doctors said he would die………….

The death of my father drove me into a trance. Even as I write this chapter, I have been unable to shed a tear for my father. I attribute it more to how he prepared me for his death and how he guided me towards being what I have turned out to be in life. My father left me a stronger and more determined person when he died. …………..

………….

Even at his burial, I was able to witness the evidence that my father lived to his own teachings. The number of people who came to pay their last respects to my father was humbling. His friends, people he impacted, our friends, people we impacted with our actions were all in attendance. The tributes that were paid to my father about his influence on the masses were captivating. They helped in making me allow my father to rest in peace. I was happy to have had him as my father, my friend, my mentor and number one influence. He was laid to rest on 6th of August 2016.

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I know this was a painful chapter to read dear friend. Share thoughts in the comments below/