Dreaming the Impossible Dream since 1997

What the CAT saw.


I’m numb, I’m numb, we all are.
I am faced again with the fact that I’ve never fully dealt with my father’s cancer.
Perhaps, if I don’t tell you what’s happening, it won’t be real.

But it is real. I know it.

I saw my parents and grandparents and brother Friday night for dinner, Papa John’s Pizza, at my grandparents house, a stone’s throw from Angel Park.

After I had eaten my fill, I asked my Mom how Dad’s CAT scan had gone earlier last week. (They had him in because his pneumonia wasn’t getting better). She waved him over, almost covertly, and he pulled up his chair beside mine, at the dining table that was full of dishes and cookies for a Sunday night dessert.

He asked me how I was doing, and I leaned into him, his arm coming around my shoulders, “fine,” I squeaked out, and asked him how he was doing.

“Well, baby, they took my scan, and I have a little metastatic disease in my lungs.”

He went on to explain, softly, that they thought the chemo treatments he had only just completed a few weeks ago had likely suppressed these lung spots and that it came through the lymph system and not the blood system, which means it moves slower.

Slower? Than what?!

It’s better, in a way, that he’s been sick though, because he wasn’t scheduled for a CAT scan check up till sometime in January. He’ll meet with his kind Oncologist on Friday. My uncle Joel flew in on Sunday to be with us, with him this week.

After the pizza, we sat around, and helped Grandma put her Christmas tree up with lights, played with the cat, and I was struck with how Norman Rockwall the night was, all of us around the tree, laughing and me trying very hard to breathe, and hide my tears from my father.

I’ve really been blessed with an amazing family.

Please pray for us.

posted under Family

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