Monday, August 08, 2016

Well Fuck.

I'm procrastinating like it is an Olympic sport today. I am a gold medalist in this event.

I don't want to see the fear in my dad's eyes and wonder if this chemo treatment today will actually make him feel as awful as the treatments he had 30 years ago. The medical staff insists it won't. They've repeated that his first chemo was one of the hardest and most brutal regimens, and that it isn't even CLOSE to what he will be receiving today...and he has zero belief that they are telling the truth. Honestly though, if I had a traumatic medical experience and then someone said "let's do a treatment with the same name, but it ISN'T the same, we promise"... I probably wouldn't believe them, either.

It's not natural to know that someone you love is going to die. I mean, we ALL KNOW that EVERYONE we love WILL DIE; it's the only guarantee in Life. But to know that a particular person will most likely pass before you do messes with your head.

I cannot describe exactly how this feels... it's a thousand moments of pain each day. Knowing I can do nothing substantial, aside from being there, being present, doing the daily things that need to be done... My sisters, Mom and I are all in the same boat. It is a sucky, holey boat, but it's the only one we have right now, and my dad needs us to keep paddling and bailing it until he says he's done...


I need to cry for a few minutes, wash my face, find something cheerful to wear, and pack a bag of books, snacks, and drinks for a long day at the hospital. I need someone to tell me it will be ok, even though that's impossible because the only way that would happen is if someone could save my daddy...


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