Til All My Sleeves are Stained Red from All the Truth that I’ve Said

Sometimes, it’s hard to be the secret keeper.

I’m glad my family does not know I blog.  Because I can write this without betraying the secret-keeping.

I went out with my dad tonight.  And he very casually told me that his prostate cancer is back.  And he made me promise not to tell anyone.  This is a crummy, crummy secret.

My dad’s cancer had been in remission for 12 or 13 years.  Last time, it was a very aggressive form of cancer.  I don’t know much about cancer.  I don’t know if the same kind comes back or if you get a different type.  The doctor told him that this time, it a rare form.  Oh shit, I was just reading prostate cancer facts.  I’ll share, check here.  Based on his previous treatment, future treatment is complicated at best.  I didn’t want to know this.  I don’t want to be ignorant, but I am scared.  My grandfather, my dad’s father, died from prostate cancer.

Now that I’ve read a bit about my dad’s options, I understand his thoughts on treatment.  He doesn’t want to have a specific treatment that was recommended by the doctor.  He’s not refusing treatment, he’s going to get a second opinion.  But he wants to delay the obvious treatment as long as possible.   

My mother doesn’t take care of herself at all.  She eats awful food and doesn’t exercise at all.  She’s 70 and has been using a cane for years because she’s so overweight and inert.  I don’t wish cancer on her but it wouldn’t be as shocking. 

My father is just so strong and vital and alive.  The first time he had cancer, he’d go get his treatments and go in to work after.  He’s just a machine.  He’s 72 and he goes to Bally’s 5 days a week like it’s a job.  He can easily pass for mid 50s.  He’s just so healthy, so timeless, such a constant force.  It is hard to understand that anything could take him down.  It doesn’t make any sense.  It’s not fair.

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