Walking a Tight Rope

I'm avoiding you.

Yep, you too.

I didn't want to be around anyone after my day today. Not GIFT, not coffee with girlfriends, and sorry babe, not even my husband.

I was with dad again today. He starts chemo tomorrow. He didn't know he was starting chemo tomorrow. He still doesn't know if he wants to do chemo tomorrow. Here are just a few things from his 'mouth' today.

"So instead of a sleeping pill, I can just drown?"
after clarification of his symptom he said
"Ok, fine, suffocate"

"How long before everything turns to mush?"
meaning the cancer that is eating away at his esophagus.

After receiving news that he would likely get pnemonia before his insides get eaten away, he covered his face for awhile. Sigh...

After a lengthy (and exhausting) afternoon discussing his medical questions, needs, and concerns, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about that didn't have to do with his health.

His comeback?

Sarcasm.

That's my dad for you. Most of the time I can handle it. But today? No, not today. I don't want to wonder what he wants done with his body when cancer finally takes him. It's hard to sit across from him and look into his completely defeated face while he confronts his inevitable and uncertain future. I don't want to lose my dad. I also know this isn't about me, and I just know that he sits around all day (he's a retired firefighter who spends his days -- all be it willingly, and joyfully-- alone) Alone with his thoughts. All day. And I thought that maybe I'd just open the door for him to talk about what was on his mind, and maybe about how he was feeling (non medically) Then he throws sarcastic remarks at me after a loooonnnggg day of medical dicusssions...nope. Exit fragile daughter.

Tight rope walking. W/o a safety.

I just hope I don't fall.