I’ve been holed up under a rock for the last week. The day after my happy sun post, we found out that my Dad has cancer. He is still undergoing tests to refine the staging and diagnosis, but the word now is Stage 4 B Cell Lymphoma. It’s not clear to me how they could get more specific, but he has an appointment with his oncologist next Tuesday to do just that. Label the disease, discuss the prognosis and walk through the treatment plan. It’s sounding like rounds of chemo but I’m trying to just reserve my own analysis until we get the official word next week. I’m enough of a worrier without worrying about things that may not even happen. So, I’m trying to be efficient with my anxiety. It’s a step in the right direction. 🙂
During this last week I have discovered yet another fabulous thing about being a parent: no time for exaggerated worry and mental preoccupation! Yes, I am still likely the most crazed cancer phobe you know and yes I STILL talk about my mother’s cancer battle of 86-87 when I get anywhere near a therapist, but now I’m responsible for this guy:
I still manage to find some time to obsess, but there just isn’t as much of it as there used to be. Now there’s plastic-ware to be washed and walks to go on and diapers to be changed and a Yogi to play and babble with. It helps.