After my last post about life being an unmanageable pile on, the universe promptly laughed and gave me the bird. I should know better than to write shit like that without knocking on wood or spitting over my should or whatever else it is one does to avoid attracting the attention of the mean and capricious fates.
Because all of that “stress” was rendered meaningless in the face of the tumor that was removed from my dad’s ear a couple weeks ago. The one that destroyed his entire inner ear, taking his hearing and facial nerve with it. The one that we found out last week was malignant.
I still have the little post it on my desk where I scribbled words, “Malignant,” “addtl tests,” “plastics-weight in eyelid,” “localized in ear,” trying to make sense of what my mom was telling me.
We’re waiting on results for PET and CT scans to determine if the cancer has spread and how much. If it hasn’t spread at all, we’re looking at a good prognosis-“home free” was the phrase my mother used. His surgeon was encouraging in that he felt he got everything and that it wasn’t the type to spread, but we just don’t know. If it has spread, well, then I suspect we’re fucked.
We’re sad and scared and angry and guilty. Angry that this wasn’t caught sooner, guilty that we didn’t push him to find better answers for the ongoing ear infections, hearing loss and worsening facial paralysis.
I’m scared this will be our last Christmas together. I’m heartbroken at the thought of Squidgey growing up not knowing his Pepere. I’m freaked out by how radically different he looks. I have to keep reminding myself that he’s the same person in there. I’m worried that Squidgey will be scared when he sees him, and that I won’t be able to keep my shit together. I don’t want to make him feel bad by seeing me upset.
I don’t know how to finish this post. I hope that once we get there, I will quickly get accustomed to how he looks and be able to push aside the “what if” thoughts about the future and just enjoy our time together…