D-Day

Tomorrow is the big day.  We meet with the oncologist.  Being the worrier and pessimist that I am, I've pretty much played out every horrible scenario in my mind. I've pictured crippling chemo treatments, with nasty side effects, hundreds of long trips back and forth to Syracuse and I worry that they'll find it has spread to other organs.  Its not easy to be inside my head because there isn't much optimism there, and I'm finding the worrying to be exhausting.

Its also exhausting to NOT be a pessimist in front of my dad.  I've had two phone calls in three days from him that had me in tears after I hung up.  On Saturday, after discussing my plans to come and take him to the grocery store, he said, "I hate that I'm screwing everything up."  I was a little confused because I didn't think the grocery store trip was screwing anything up.  So I asked him what he meant, and he said "Because I'm going to die".   Not sure what I said as I stumbled through the rest of that conversation, but I was sure glad TJ was standing next to me when I hung up because I lost it.

Then yesterday he called me and said, "Before I forget, sometime between now and Monday I need to get a bouquet of flowers"  (he still can't drive)  "Ok, why?" I ask.  He says "Every year I buy flowers and leave them in the community room (of his building) and write 'To all the ladies of Golden Age, from all the Gentlemen'.  Now by no means is my dad some kind of saint, and he's certainly not perfect, but he does love to give gifts to anyone and everyone.  It just seems sweeter these days.  The guy has a lot more to worry about than Valentine flowers.  I told him that we would get the flowers and then hung up. Later, trying to tell my sister in law about the flowers, sent me in to momentary bucket of tears.

It will be a super long day tomorrow, we're leaving here by 6:30 am.  I really don't know what to expect, but knowing me, I'll certainly worry about it until then.