Forest Gump said it himself, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you are going to get." I feel like I just pulled out one of those with the cherry filling...yuk!
Dad came out of surgery with flying colors, but then the recovery came...and it wasn't pretty (still isn't). Granted, he's doing better than he was last night, which consisted of a mostly catatonic state. He's groggy and foggy, delirious and paranoid. Though today was better, only time will tell if he will pull through this. I think he's giving up. Before he went into surgery, he said he was tired of being sick, tired of fighting cancer. I can't even begin to imagine where he is coming from. The battles I face daily circulate around two toddlers, not life and death.
He once told me that not only is the cancer trying to kill him, but so is the treatment. This procedure was unavoidable. There was no other option, except to succomb. I have to believe that there is still fight left in him. The human will is an amazing thing. It's up to him now.
Last night I felt like I was in a soap opera from hell, a montage of drama only family can inspire. I don't need to go into all the details, but let's just say it wasn't pretty. People deal with circumstances such as this in all different kinds of ways. Some choose denial, and it works for them. Some choose avoidance, filling their lives with distractions. Some choose the worst case scenario approach, where the end is around every corner. And then others choose to face the situation head on and do what it takes. You never know which option you'll choose until your faced with it. And every situation is different. But when you get a bunch of people get together that have all chosen different coping mechanisms, KABOOM...chaos. That is the only way I can explain the events that tranapired last night...everyone trying to deal with dad's condition in their own way.
For now, I'd done...ready to distract myself with another episode from the second season of One Tree Hill (judge me not). This is my escape. Other wise, I could sit in this room seeing my dad in this state, and my mind could go crazy. I prefer to not deal...at least not for now.
Needless to say, I'm not coming home yet. Today marks the beginning of my third week away from home, and more importantly, away from my husband. One could only hope for a man more supportive than Neil. He's thinking he'll come down this coming weekend and I can't wait. Many times I just wish he were here, to sit beside me and hold my hand. Distance truly does make the heart grow fonder. (cliche or not).
I'm Not A Stalker, Just A Fan
1 year ago