Where did my week go?

I can't believe it's been a week since I last posted. Since cancer descended on the family and I took up knitting and dancing and attending a local Unitarian Universalist church, the schedule is packed. Weekends are spent hanging out with the parents... installing handicap accessories (Dad's lower body numbness never did go away, even though it seems that he's getting better in general), helping with household chores and taking Dad back out into the greater world.

I'm definitely as in the world as I've ever been, and friends have been very understanding about the busy... so I think posts will happen when they happen... no more, no less.

fall out

dad's fine (ish): surgery went well, awaiting hormonal therapy and radiation treatment.
mom's fine (ish): waiting on dad, rearranging the house to accommodate a downstairs bed and closing his office.
i'm fine (ish): helped in any way I could, friends being very supportive, haven't had to spend an evening alone yet, which is nice.

we'll see how this all pans out.

suckie crap ass day

my father has experienced some back pain in the past couple of weeks, it turned into what we all thought was siatica.

he went to the doctor's saturday, the doctor had a hunch it might not be good, so he called in a bunch of favors to schedule an MRI for sunday a.m.

sunday night, i got three messages...
that the MRI was "bad" - no explanation
that the MRI was fine, and he needed simple back surgery on a disk
the the MRI was bad again - and that he needed a biopsy

monday morning (today)
i got a call that i was to not go to work, to come to lorain, that he was going in for surgery and that they thought it was cancer.

so today was spent at the hospital with chaplins and ministers and specialists and surgeons all speculating and throwing out numbers and being vague and talking in what-ifs.

so he had spine surgery today, it went well, they removed the offending lesions, and they confirmed cancer, but with more information to come later...

this fucking blows.

i totally dig my dad.

my carpentering, model-building, blacksmithing, basket-weaving dad.

we don't get cancer.
we're not cancer people.
we have heart attacks.
and survive them, for many many many years.
not cancer.
that's just not us.