A Patient's Perspective: When a Parent Is Diagnosed with Lung Cancer

Nothing prepared me for the hard that was hearing that my father also has stage IV lung cancer. Walking a cancer journey is pretty rough, but I think having to watch a loved one walk through it when you're completely helpless is debilitating.

An ER visit for GI issues turned lung cancer patient

My dad went to the local emergency room with complaints of his stomach, and much like many of us, a routine abdominal CT showed nodules on one side and a mass and some major fluid buildup on the other. I traveled about 90 miles for my scans and had just arrived at my destination the day before my scans when I received the phone call that he had just heard that he had lung cancer as well. He was hospitalized, and a bronchoscopy confirmed cancer.

Hearing that my father also had lung cancer felt like my own diagnosis all over again. I couldn't focus on anything else. My brain was in overdrive.

I ran scenarios galore in my head and didn't get anywhere, as many of us have done over and over again. I must say that for a moment, my own diagnosis made a little more sense.

I have spent six and a half years thinking that I didn't have any genetic connection, but after learning of my dad's diagnosis, just maybe it can make a little bit more sense. I have so many new questions now.

Keeping a loved one encouraged

My dad smoked for many, many years, and of course, that was concerning for me as I thought about the possibility of his cancer type. He hasn't smoked a thing in almost 20 years, so I was hopeful. I encouraged him as best I knew how and tried my best to let him know that regardless of what we learn in this diagnosis, he didn't do this to himself and that he didn't do a thing to deserve it.

I knew I had to step up and advocate for him as I have myself. Not only does my diagnosis make a little more sense, but it's just maybe there's an actual purpose to my own lung cancer journey.

He doesn't have to go at this alone. He has me. I remember searching for any kind of hope when I was diagnosed. Perhaps having a daughter in the battle for 6.5 years still on first-line therapy is the hope he needs. After all, I do feel like I know a few things.

I didn't understand words like mutation or molecular testing in the beginning. I certainly didn't know what a PET scan was or anything else. I knew within hours of learning this news that I would have to be his hope, encouragement, interpreter of all the medical things to the best of my ability, and advocate.

First doctor visit and hearing results

I went with him to his first oncology appointment with a little notebook and a small list of things that I wanted to ask about, such as baseline brain scan, PET scan, and molecular testing. I am sure these are all common things that all oncologists do for lung cancer, but I had my list to make sure, and his wonderful doctor went right down my list without me asking a thing. I had immediate confidence in the care of my father's cancer journey.

At his results appointment of all his tests, the doctor revealed that my daddy has the same exact EGFR mutation and even the T790m that I also had and, of course, non-small cell lung cancer even though he smoked for years. He will also be on Tagrisso, which I have also been on for six and a half years.

Hoping for a great response

I realize that response is different for all of us, and just because I have responded well doesn't mean others have or will. I am just grateful for an oral option for my daddy.

He has me to ask about side effects and other things. He has me to stand beside him and fight like there's no tomorrow. He's used to the fight.

He had an aneurysm behind his heart this size of a baseball in 2007, and he survived when his team of surgeons had only seen this case on a cadaver. He knows how to fight. And so, we fight together!

Unfortunate update

My daddy's treatment was working incredibly well, but his lungs were so severely damaged from various pulmonary complications that after a 29-day stay in critical care, he transitioned out of this world on September 9, 2024.

I got to be his advocate for a very short time, and I am grateful that I could be there for him.