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Tuesday, May 22, 2007

The sentence has been handed down. There will be no stay, no reprieve. The cancer WILL come back. Perhaps in the same place, perhaps in a different place but according to his doctors in no uncertain terms, it will return. If it is as aggressive as the last tumors, there wont be much time and the treatment options are limited at this point. I am trying my hardest to comprehend. To hold in the tears and the hurt and the other million and one emotions that are ripping apart. I know I should have hope and think positively and remember that miracles happen all the time but the reality of it all is just a bit too stark and I just dont know how to hope. Not now.

For the past three weeks I had been telling myself that what is to happen is already written in stone. There was nothing I could do to change the hands of fate and so I concentrated on making sure that if he were to live for a thousand years or a thousand minutes that none of our time would be wasted. I told myself that if the prognosis was grim that I wouldnt want him to go on being the half man that cancer has made him. I told myself that if he had to find quality of life by dying that I could support and come to terms with it relatively easily. Believing something so poetic for the past three weeks has been a godsend. Today however, I cannot breathe.

In the depths of my mind, the part of the mind that tells you the ugly truths that you deny with anger and shame, I knew that this disease would inevitably take my invincible hero of a dad. All I wanted was for him to play at least eighteen more holes of golf and to be able to laugh and carry on without fear.

The questions have been mounting and the anger is eating me alive. I am wrought with grief and preparing myself that I am going to watch my father die. Right NOW my perspective is so poisonous and I am struggling to find that breath of calm that I had. Right now I feel like I am drowning.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Inoperable or very treatable. What word carries more weight with you?

Most people that know me would say that I am an "inoperable" kind of gal. To put much stock into, “very treatable” a person would have to possess an ounce of blind faith and seeing as though you wont find me in a house of God on my own free will, suffice it to say blind faith is not my forte. No wonder people turn to God during times of illness or tragedy. Without God there are no miracles. Even when the medically impossible becomes possible, God gets the credit, not science. And without concrete answers, "inoperable" and "very treatable" tend to live on opposite sides of a non existent spectrum and you have to decide, perhaps life or impending death. I’m not ready to bury my father and watch my mother break into a million bits of sand like pieces so maybe I’ll try to find some of that blind faith that carries a person when they cant carry themselves.

I’m so tired.


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