Hard Times

Last Thursday was exactly one year since my dad was diagnosed with stage 2 of tongue cancer - invasive-moderately differentiated squamous cell carcinoma; he's now in the final stage...

I'm sorry I haven't written much lately but it's hard to find a glimpse of positive hope when things seem so dreary. So this post has a negative overcast and undertone - again, my apologies.

My father is not doing well at all. My mother is taking him to the Rural Health Clinic tomorrow because she doesn't think he can wait until his appointment Thursday.

The past couple of months have been filled with a flurry of different types of medicines - trying to balance painkillers with steroids and anti-inflammatories. Despite all this, of course, he is still in pain and swollen. His right side of his face has swollen up so badly he has trouble seeing out of his right eye. The drugs have also affected his mood and activity. He is drained and weakened by the simplest of tasks now.

About a week ago, he texted me, "mother nature takes her time sometimes damnit"... Timing is everything now, it seems, and time is precious.