Daddykins

My Bobby is in the hospital again... went into the emergency room at 1am yesterday because he had been throwing up blood since Monday. Just because his chemo has been increased because it's not fucking working, he didn't feel the need to go to the hospital sooner. And they did a scope and found a bunch of polyps in his esophagus so we can probably add that to the list of bowel, lungs and liver. What's one more spot, right? And they had to take him off his blood thinners for a couple of days so they can biopsy the polyps - he didn't have the blood thinners for 36 hours last December and he had a stroke which sent him to the hospital which was when they discovered the cancer - so they are pretty concerned that he will stroke out and die while they do the test. Fuck.

Yesterday I was getting myself worked up because I am so afraid to see him when I go to Ontario next week. Today I'm afraid that he won't be able to go. Over here on the other side of the country it's easy to push the whole thing away - most of the time. Except on Father's Day, anniversaries, birthdays, except when people ask why I am moving, except when friends ask how he's doing, except when I see someone dying on tv or hear about someone with cancer anywhere in the world, except when the cancer society sends me an email or has a fund raiser, except when I hear a song that reminds me of him or think of a joke that he said or when I see a hammer or when I am awake or when I am asleep. Except those times I can totally forget about it. Fuck.

I am so afraid for him, so afraid for us... that soon we will have to live without him. Afraid that he won't make it to Debra's wedding in June. Afraid that he will suffer. Afraid that he has regrets. Afraid that I wasn't who he wanted me to be. Afraid that I haven't made him proud. Afraid that he hasn't lived a happy life. Afraid that he's not ready. Afraid that he is.

But there's nothing I can do. I can be there, I can support him and Mom, I can move to Ontario so I will at least be closer to home, I can love him. But there's nothing I can do. I know that death is part of life and I know that I have always wanted my parents to go before any of their children because that's the way it's supposed to be. But in 30 years, damnit. Not now. Not when he hasn't met the children that I haven't even met the father of, let alone conceived or adopted. Not when we haven't made his dream trip to Ireland. Not when... just not now. Just not.

Do you think he knows how much I love him?

Song Sung Blue - Neil Diamond