Here we go again
Wednesday evening. OK, so Plan C went out the door by about 10:30am this morning but that's not why I'm writing. It's funny how you can be absolutely laser-focused on something self-centered and then - WHAM! - Life kindly steps in and reminds you of what's truly important to you.
I was driving to work this morning and kept trying to call my mom for my semi-daily check in but the phone was busy for the entire drive. I think I muttered something like, "Get off the damned phone!" Once I got into my office, my cell phone rang and it was Mom. Her voice was shaky and I got a cold shiver as I listened because I knew it wasn't good. It's my dad. Daddy. Less than a year after his heart surgery, his orthopedist called and said that they want him to make an appointment at USC's Cancer Center with an oncologist. For what we assumed was just a cyst.
They didn't explain to my mom what it was about his MRI that made them think that he needs to see a cancer treatment specialist and, after she's read through the MRI report (remember, she's a nurse) about 150 times, she can't see anything that affirmatively supports the idea that it's a cancerous mass. He's had so much blood work done in the last nine months that it's a wonder he's got any left and nothing untoward has shown up. Red and white blood cell counts are normal and they wouldn't be if he had one of the blood cancers. They just opened him up completely in April and you'd have thought any irregularities would have shown up then, too.
I just can't and won't believe that this is anything more than an unfortunate cyst that can be drained and moved to the bin of Scary Things We Don't Have to Worry About Anymore. No, no, no, no. I'm not crying and I'm not letting Mom cry, either. We don't know anything, I won't beleive it until we hear it from a doctor, and that's just the way it's going to be. My chin is firmly set in "stubbornly optimistic" mode and the Big C doesn't even want to mess with me!
Do you know what's great about the Internet? No one can see your hands shake.
I was driving to work this morning and kept trying to call my mom for my semi-daily check in but the phone was busy for the entire drive. I think I muttered something like, "Get off the damned phone!" Once I got into my office, my cell phone rang and it was Mom. Her voice was shaky and I got a cold shiver as I listened because I knew it wasn't good. It's my dad. Daddy. Less than a year after his heart surgery, his orthopedist called and said that they want him to make an appointment at USC's Cancer Center with an oncologist. For what we assumed was just a cyst.
They didn't explain to my mom what it was about his MRI that made them think that he needs to see a cancer treatment specialist and, after she's read through the MRI report (remember, she's a nurse) about 150 times, she can't see anything that affirmatively supports the idea that it's a cancerous mass. He's had so much blood work done in the last nine months that it's a wonder he's got any left and nothing untoward has shown up. Red and white blood cell counts are normal and they wouldn't be if he had one of the blood cancers. They just opened him up completely in April and you'd have thought any irregularities would have shown up then, too.
I just can't and won't believe that this is anything more than an unfortunate cyst that can be drained and moved to the bin of Scary Things We Don't Have to Worry About Anymore. No, no, no, no. I'm not crying and I'm not letting Mom cry, either. We don't know anything, I won't beleive it until we hear it from a doctor, and that's just the way it's going to be. My chin is firmly set in "stubbornly optimistic" mode and the Big C doesn't even want to mess with me!
Do you know what's great about the Internet? No one can see your hands shake.
