Uncomfortably numb

I spent a good 12 hours stressing about the weather and whether or not to drive in the snow to my dad's appointment on Friday. He was getting a ride from a VFW van that takes vets to the VA for free, so I knew he would get there, I just didn't want him to have to navigate the hospital and have his chest port procedure alone. In the end, I decided not to risk the drive. Luckily my uncle works overnight at Fedex in Syracuse so he showed up at the hospital in time to see my dad after the procedure. Then he drove my dad home so he didn't have to wait to take the van back.  Phew.  

I spoke to my dad on the phone while he was on the way home, he said that the doctor had spoken with him briefly in the hall and told him he'd have to wait for the port incision to heal before they would start chemo.  I felt much less guilt about not going, and was glad he was on his way home safely.

Cut to an hour later.  Oncologist calls me, I think its going to be a recap of what my dad just told me.  Wrong.

She calls to say "by the way" we found a post-op CT Scan report that we hadn't seen before and there is a spot on his lung. She is not sure what it is.  They compared it to a scan he had in 2007 and it wasn't there then, which makes it a little more worrysome.  So he has to go to Buffalo for a PET CT this week.  If it is cancerous the pulmonologists will let the doctor know the next step.   If it is lung cancer, they will still treat the colon cancer the same way as originally planned but he will no longer qualify for the colon cancer clinical trial.

Why am I not falling apart from this news?  I feel nothing.  Am I in denial? Am a I such a pessimist that I already had given him a death sentence?  No idea.  I'm just numb.