On that dreaded C-word…

More than a month since my last post. Sigh. Let’s say life got in the way.

See, life currently entails worrying daily about my parents. My dad isn’t getting better, they stopped treatment, because the cancer just keeps spreading. So now it’s lungs, liver and cells everywhere. Which means, “we’re sorry sir, just go home and be comfortable”.

And then I see posts on Facebook from people about cancer, and make-up-less selfies, and posts about people asking why their seemingly healthy relatives are getting cancer, and then I get angry.See, for the most part I have been bottling up everything about my dad. Trying to be strong, trying to not show how it affects me. But it does…

I can also play the “my dad was healthier than ever and now has cancer” card. because, face it, he was healthy until they started trying to remove the cancer. And then it just kept on spreading and spreading and spreading… and now we’re at the point where he has difficulty breathing, has a nasty couch thanks to the cancer nodes, and thanks to the treatment (which failed), he’s starting to forget things…

Like packing out the entire medicine cabinet, looking for eye drops. But he was actually looking for pills, but kept calling them eye drops. Or shows up at the petrol station, fills up his car, but doesn’t have his wallet. He can’t remember that he has spoken to us on the phone, but yet he still goes to work every single day.

I wish I had that determination…

It’s sad to see a person go through this. And it’s hard to not be able to do anything, but try and be the support structure they desperately need. It breaks me to see the deterioration and the extra strain on my mom. They’re not spring chickens anymore.

So, I get angry when people say things about cancer. But mostly I will keep quiet. Because deep inside I’m battling my own demons about coming to term with my dad slowly dying from this awful disease. It feels like my hands are cut off. And my stomach is in a knot.

And there’s nothing I can do about it.

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