It’s bad now.
Everyday someone asks…”So…how’s your dad?”, and I have to pause and say, “He’s not good, he’s not good at all”. Even though I said that yesterday, and the day before that and the day before that…today…he’s worse. Each day unfolds some new, bad. Every day is hell in it’s own way. There is no word for this disease…this parasitic fungi…this appetite stealing, body wasting, sonofabitch cancer.
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June 12, 2007 at 11:15 am
Sarah
I’m so genuinely sorry. Things for my dad are bad as well. I was just thinking the other day that, amazingly, there was a time when my thoughts weren’t totally dominated by these goddamn mutating cells… it feels like a lifetime ago.
I am so sorry.