(no subject)
When my dad started with the crazy abnornal hiccupping, it only took me seeing this a couple of times before I said what I suspected. Today, he got his diagnosis, and my suspicions were correct. Esophageal cancer. My mom and dad are not internet goers. They listen to what doctors say, which means they probably weren't given the grim details as much as words of action, and they take it as gospel, like it's all about how great this doctor is. But, this irritates me, because who the fuck cares about the doctor? This isn't about a fucking doctor, this is about my dad and his survival, so lets just get right to that, ffs, and not be distracted by some side show. So, here I am, reading up, and this is fucky. I suppose a man of 85 years old wasn't going to have a life expectancy of extra decades, was he? But, still, the potential for longevity was genetically there beyond the 8th decade, even past the 9th decade in some cases. One extra decade would have been nice, even, and without this diagnosis, may have been. Now, it's likely not even going to be a half decade more. It was so fun and cute in its briefness for me, that I predicted correctly, but now that it's established as the worst case scenario that it is, it quickly starts hitting me that my dad is actively dying. Otherwise, the man could have been as old as he pleases, and I still wouldn't consider him close to death. Now, as far as I'm concerned, it's sentenced. Only now do I see the clock ticking, and ticking very loudly, so amplifying. Oh, my mom has been given some sort of hope from this doctor, and I don't think my dad is much further off from the same sentiments. But, me, it's quckly settling in that he is a walking dead man. And, I'm not sure how I feel, yet. It's only been 2 hours since hearing, but even as I write this, I'm feeling more and more uneasy, and maybe upset. This sucks, but remember his age and how I wasn't at all thinking that a 85 year old was close to dying before this.