Scared shitless

I haven't mentioned my dad's health in a few months because I figured nothing would change before his Medicare coverage started at the beginning of July. Of course, I didn't except that his condition could deteriorate in the meantime. From how he explained what was going on - which he seemed to have downplayed to spare me from more anguish - waiting till July wouldn't compromise his overall health.

But, today everything is different.

Late last night, he sent me an e-mail, explaining that he had been admitted to the hospital and was there for 13 days for antibiotic treatment and was discharged on the 7th. He went on to say that around the 29th of this month he'll be going back into the hospital, and at that time, the surgical team will perform a 20-hour operation that will involve removal of the cancer - which, fortunately, is squamous cell carcinoma that hasn't invaded any where else in his body - as well as reconstruction of his nose and face. He also warned me that he will probably lose his right eye.

I had been trying to absorb this news all morning when I got an unexpected call from my dad's stepdaughter. She explained that my dad wasn't feeling "right" this morning and almost passed out, so he's back in the hospital. She didn't have any specific information, other than he's had three "procedures" (whatever that means), but he hadn't even been admitted yet.

Even though my dad and I have a very unconventional relationship, it doesn't hurt any less that this is all happening. I'm terrified for him, and I'm trying my best to honor his wish of me not seeing him in his current condition, but what if his situation is grave? Do I still respect his wish and stay here in North Carolina, wondering what's going on 500 miles away while he's possibly on his deathbed?

I can't believe this is happening and happening so quickly. I feel like I did when I first heard the severity of Ryan's news: I'm ready to throw up and I don't know what to do.

Ryan isn't allowed to meet his grandpa yet. No.

Do you hear me, God? It's not time ...