It's Probably Cancer in New Beginnings

My sister gave me a complete update yesterday. My dad has legions on his liver, and they’re probably cancer. He hasn’t had a colonoscopy in ten years, so the doctors don’t know how his colon looks, but there’s a possibility that the cancer started there and spread to his liver. As I understood my sister, the cancer spreading from his colon to his liver is preferable to liver cancer for some reason. I’m not sure I’m remembering our conversation correctly, though. I would expect the opposite to be true because then the cancer would be contained to one organ instead of two. Maybe that’s it. I don’t know. I don’t like to investigate these types of things.

My dad has another biopsy tentatively scheduled for next week. He’s trying to schedule it for Friday, in which case his sister will take him. Otherwise, I will drive down next week to take him. I think it’s a biopsy. I know they’re going to go through a vein in his neck to observe his liver, his colon, or both. Like I said, I don’t like to investigate these things. My dad will need someone to stay with him a day afterwards to make sure he’s all right. I’ve already gotten permission to telecommute next week from my manager, but I haven’t told anyone at my office the specifics.

My dad sent the following email he sent this morning.

“I’ve discovered something that helps me. In a phone conversation with Daisy last night, she task me if I could tell what was making me feel so badly. My answer was my nausea and my stomach , side hurting. As I thought more of that question later, I realize that perhaps having only one small restricted comfort position contributes greatly to my discomfort. There is only one distinct position that allows me any comfort. That position is laying on my left side with my legs drawn up in the fetal position. Perhaps this insight will allow me to find other positions.”

I can’t get that image out of my head, my dad lying in the fetal position all day and night. I feel like this is his end. I’m really afraid he’s going to die how my mom died-fight a prolonged battle with cancer, recover through the hardest parts, then die suddenly from a resulting, obscure health complication. If I could get an actual house, he could stay with me either until he’s better or until he’s…not. Whatever happens, staying with me would be a better option than living or dying where he is now. Unless I find a place greatly underpriced, I can’t afford that option. I need one more year of saving. This isn’t the time to fight this battle.