Hope For Dad

That's Scott there in the middle of the picture. Not that anyone who has ever met him needs to be told! With all the signature traits, from his long hair that he's always sported to cover what he calls his "Spock ears", to his sarcastic whit and drummer's fingers that never stop tapping to the U2 songs in his head, it'd be hard to forget an encounter with the tall father of three and pop-pop of seven.

The picture he's in here was taken at my dad's retirement party less than a year ago, when the future looked bright and promising and full of possibility. As far as anyone knew, he was in great health from all the years of running miles per day after work. But then, as you know, 2020 happened. And as with most things this year, things quickly got...weird. Just a few months after we completely embarrassed him with the surprise retirement party, he was rushed to the hospital where he had to have emergency surgery to remove a blockage that nearly killed him. The surgery saved his life, but they found that the blockage was actually a tumor that had been growing for a long time, a tumor that his routine colonoscopies had "somehow" completely missed. Enter the colon cancer diagnosis and the next chapter in my parents' life together.

The next nine months were filled with rounds of chemotherapy and the highs and lows that came with it. But eventually, the chemo became ineffective while the side effects continued to get worse. The only option left to him, according to the doctors, was a trial treatment. But just this week, we found out that he was not accepted into it. Now, after a lot of tireless research and talking with other cancer survivors, we have made the decision to explore alternative treatment that, of course, insurance won't cover. But we know a handful of people who are now cancer free after visiting similar places and are hopeful that he might join their ranks! The facility where he will receive three weeks of intensive care (and three months of follow up treatment at home) is in Mexico, a country both my parents have visited multiple times on missions trips.

For those of you who know Scott, you probably don't need to be told that he's totally embarrassed by all this, and you can imagine how much arm twisting it took to get him just to give us permission to set up this fund. But we don't believe that it's time to give up just yet, not with this option out there.

So many of you have been so unbelievably supportive through this time. From meals and visits to your unyielding prayers. You have no idea how much my mom and dad have depended on and appreciate your love and care. His dream has always been to see his grandchildren get married, and we want to do our part to ensure he has every opportunity to see that dream come true before the pain can consume what will and resolve he has left.

Any help, no matter how great or small, will go a long way in offsetting the cost of this treatment. As you can imagine (and as many of you know firsthand), the prospect my mom is facing in this uncertain future is testing every ounce of faith she has. Getting away from the painful, hopeless days spent in COVID sequester will provide not only hope for healing, but for peace, clarity, and a quality of life that is quickly eroding.

Thank you all. Feel free to reach out for more information, updates, etc. 

With much love and hope,
The Hopkins family

For some insight into the facility, visit https://iamhopeforcancer.com/