The Day the Whole World Went Away

As of yesterday, it has been six months since Dad was diagnosed. It's a day I will never forget, because it's a shock and pain I never knew possible. I can still see myself, in the parking lot of Whole Foods, getting the call from Mom. "It's lung cancer. They think it's in his brain. They're admitting him." It was like my soul cracked wide open, and I cried in  deep, wrenching sobs. I held my cell phone absentmindedly. I knew I needed to call someone. Anyone. Who would calm me down? Who would know the right thing to say? Diana, of course. What is it about the sound of her voice that is so calming? I don't remember what she said, but I do remember I was able to collect myself together and get home. 

It was a bad day, followed by a succession of very bad days. But as days wore on to weeks and months, this has become my new normal. It's surprising to me how a life absent of cancer can become one consumed by it. There is nothing else in our lives that eats up so much of our energy and time. If not in day to day activities, but in our collective thoughts. All of our lives in this family are held hostage by this disease. And it sucks. 

Another part of 'the new normal' is that my Dad is not the same. He is forgetful. He has trouble processing simple things. He is often confused and hard to understand. There are good days, too, but we never know from one day to the next what the day will hold. Today was chemo day, and I took the morning-to-lunch shift, Mom came in for a little bit, and Steven took the afternoon-to-end of the day shift. It's easier to split it up. They'll do another round of scans in a few weeks, and then decide whether to keep doing treatments without a break, or, if things look good, let him have a break from the chemo. They seem to be scanning him fairly often - every six weeks- which is good, I guess, because I think we'd all be worried and wondering if it's working. But I also know that it's a sign that they're concerned, too, and that doesn't do a lot to assuage my fears. All in all, he is doing remarkably well, considering the first Oncologist we saw told us it ' wasn't worth ' doing treatment. Well, he's still here, so I guess that moron with a God complex was wrong. 

I meant to get a photo of the outside of my parent's house, it looks so nice now. Mom's friend Debbie came over last week and worked for days sanding the front door and shutters - they hadn't been painted in a decade or more - and repainted them black. She's quite the perfectionist, and did a bang up job! She also got a new light for the outside, helped Mom pick out new, updated door hardware, and painted the house numbers black to match. It looks so sharp, and I know Mom and Dad are thrilled. I continued to be amazed at what good friends we all have.