I just received some unfortunate news, but let me preface it with a bit of history, because I can't remember what I've shared here. About 3 1/2 years ago, my dad was diagnosed with a terminal form of cancer called multiple myeloma. It's considered terminal because there is no cure for it, but the life expectancy varies greatly based on each individual. I believe that the average is two years, so he has surpassed expectations, particularly as he is 70. Of course, with cancer, it doesn't just stay in one place, so even as one treats one type, another pops up which requires another type of treatment.
The first type of treatment he had didn't seem to limit him in any way. He'd get loopy from the steroids, but he could go about his business fairly easily. However, once the cancer spread to his colon (about 6 months ago), they had to treat that, which required a different type of treatment, one that is very painful and debilitating. He's still a workaholic, so he went to work as much as he could, but he had to take naps in the middle of the day and go to bed early because it weakened him. In the last week or so, he's felt even worse, and this past weekend, he had to go the hospital because he couldn't stop vomiting. They kept him a couple of days and did a bunch of tests, and the chemo didn't slow the cancer much. He just has a few weeks left, so they sent him home with a prescription for liquid morphine.
I've never been very close to him, partly because we're very much alike, particularly in keeping our emotions to ourselves. Still, though I knew that this was coming, it doesn't seem to lessen the blow. I know that my siblings and I will get through it, but I do worry about my mom. This illness hasn't exactly been great for her, and with me and my sister hours away, and my brother not entirely mobile, I'm worried about how she will cope when the time comes.