feeling sad...and scared

People, things are rough! I'm overwhelmed. School, Work, take care of house, take care of Dad. Try and get my SELF in shape, physically, emotionally, spiritually) It's a lot. I find myself thinking all too much, all too often.

Dad had a feeding tube placed 3 weeks ago, and the thing is driving him CRAZY. They may place a new one, a different kind, see if that works better for him. I think he would prefer the MICKEY BUTTON.

Friday he is having a PORT placed. Basically, a sort of shunt in his vein, so they don't have to give him a needle poke, and IV every time he gets CHEMO, which would fry and blow his veins.

Monday the 19th he starts radiation, and a week later he starts chemotherapy.

Dad looks sick now. Over the last year he had lost weight but, he had weight to lose, and he actually began looking healthier. Now, he is still losing weight. He doesn't look healthy anymore. Just since June he seems to have aged 10 years. His clothes hang on his body, his hair has gotten a lot more gray in it. Every line of age has deepend.

The other night, he was sitting at the table, and I was on the couch. I just kept looking at his profile, and my eyes weld up with tears. He looks old. 53 and he looks OLD. He looks fragile. He looks sick. When I went to help him flush and clean his feeding tube, I thought "there are indentations where muscle should be, he is waisting away". Not 5 minutes later he tells me the cancer is eating away at his muscles, and points to one of the very indentations I had thought should not be there. Worry is carved into his brow.

I had a thought the other day that suprised me. My Uncle died of this cancer 7 years ago. I'd always wished he'd survived, for my Cousins and my Aunt. For all us here, just to know he was still around. I was very sad when he was gone.When my couisn had a beautiful baby girl, and I first saw a picture, I thought how sad steve didn't get to see her. When I met that baby girl last year, and saw her again this past October, I just imagined how bitter sweet it must be for my cousin to remember what a great Dad she had, and think what a great grandpa he woudl have been. Even those thoughts though, were surface. Now, I kind of get it. Now..., now I wish he was here for a very differen reason. Now, I wish he had beat cancer so my Dad could have his big brother telling him "I beat this crud, you can too". Instead my Dad has a looming death warrant over his head. He is probably thinking "This stuff brought down my big brother, now it's going to get me"

If my happy, silly, comedian of an Uncle couldn't beat it, how is my cynical, negative, "the world is against me" kind of a guy Dad going to beat it? I know my Dad is more than this. I know he is a fighter, he has defied more odds the I can relay here. This Man had a radiator blow up on him, a woman stab him multiple times in the face, neck, chest, and back, Fell out of a truck and was drug, ripping the skin off his back, was in another accident that broke his jaw....he has escaped death multiplte times, he wasn't suppose to live, and if he did, he was suppose to be in a vegetable like state. But will this take him? This slow, multiplying, healthy cell eating, destroyer that has become a disease of our generation? Will this bring down the odd, frustrating, loving, strong, fearce protector, and never ending provider I call my father? And if he does survive, will I feel guilty? Will my cousins wonder why my Dad made it and not theirs? Will he wonder why he beat it?

Months from now, will I be looking over at that same table, and know he will never sit their again? Will I get to see the pride in his eyes when I get my BA this June? When I meet someone special, will my brother have to be the one to give permission for my hand in marriage? Will Dad not walk me down the aisle and give me away? Will I ever see him look down adoringly at his grand daughters and grandsons that I bore, the way he looks at my nephew? Will he never get to eat Christmas dinner at my house, or help me fix the plumbing after toddlers clog it up with toys and too much toilet paper? Will I someday get to give back the provision he has given me, by offering him a mother in law apartment in my home? Will I ever get to hold a TRULY old hand, one of 85 +, one with white hair, and still deep brown eyes so like mine, and finally understand him, understand what he has done for me, and thank him for everything? Will I have to say goodbye all to soon?