8.08.05
And I knew it wanst right, but it felt so good
I had decided not to write today. I decided that I needed to think about things, to not talk about them just yet. As I drove home last night, Milo curled in the back seat sleeping, listening to the CBC, I thought about the weekend. I thought about how things change in an instant, and all of a sudden you are not quite sure that you knew all of the things you thought you did. I thought about how I get choked up over silly movies and commercials, about how I cry from reading a book or listening to certain songs. And how when someone brings out the big guns, I sit there silently, and think about the right questions to ask. How serious is this? What is the recovery time? Will they do treatment after the surgery? Are you scared? What surprised me is that he did say he was scared, and alarmed. And of course getting a second opinion.
It is Prostate cancer. It is in an extremely early stage, probably would have never seen symptoms for almost a decade if it were not for the blood tests and biopsy. He is healthy and strong and has everything going in his favour. They will do the operation in a month at the earliest, just remove the entire thing and that will be that. And so it sounded good to me, it sounded safe. Of course there are always dangers that come with surgery, but this is the best case scenario of a situation no one wants. I told Steve, and cried a little, but put it out of my mind. As I drove home last night I let myself think about it, when maybe I should not have done that.
Once I got home last night I watched Honey (which is pretty lame but has some cool dance moves and Lil Romeo is absolutely Ad-Dor-Able), avoided Jill and went to my room to read at ten. Mostly I just lay there, thinking about things. I am not sure how to conclude this. I am afraid. I am afraid something will happen and I will lose my dad. My daddy for Gods sake, what would I do without him? I am scared that I will see him after the operation and he will look old and weak. I am scared for my mom and for my brothers. But mostly, I am trying not to think about it. Because it is something else that we will get through. And because it brings me to the verge of tears.
I did not tell Jill last night, I do not really want to talk about it at all, not even to Steve. I told him I thought about it on the drive home, but I was not ready to get into it with Jill. I did not want to cry, I did not want to explain how it is really not that bad, but scary as hell just the same. I do not want to say how I am really ok, these tears are just a reaction that happens when I say the words, but please do not worry and please, no sympathy. I did not want to explain the fear in my mothers eyes, or how they touched more this weekend, seemed more playful together. I did not really want to bring her into the place inside of me where this information is sleeping. I dont know if I want anyone in there.
There are little details, like if he will go down to the Mayo Clinic for a second opinion or get it here at home, and when they will do the surgery, and if that will conflict with Steve and I going to Kingston for our house hunting trip, and what I will do if that is the case (but really I already know what I would do). His sister sobbed when she told him, and my mom said it is just a reaction, and she is particularly sensitive right now since her son is in Remission for Hodgkins Lymphoma, but I could not help but think that that is not the reaction someone wants. Because as serious as this is, it really is like the best of the worst.
wunderwuman at 9:20 a.m.