"Be Still and Know", says the Still Small Voice

Dad's home and recovering as well as anyone can with a hole in their neck. There are still questions to which we do not have answers.

Still no pathology report.

Still don't know if there's cancer.

Still holding our collective breath.

Still waiting under the shadows of "what if's" and speculation.

Still holding fast to the hope that is within.

Can I get a witness!?

A blow up of my newest profile photo. Enjoy!

Nice Shirt

Dad was in surgery for almost 5 hours yesterday. He looks good in spite of the ordeal. The doctors said that they didn't see anything abnormal as they conducted the surgery. He did lose a portion of his jugular vein and his muscle, as expected, but his nerve is fine. We're waiting on the pathology report to know if there was in fact any cancer in the tissues that were removed. We're not out of the woods yet but it does feel like the trees are getting thinner.

After almost 5 hours my dad was pretty doped up but that didn't stop him from being himself. He couldn't speak because he was still on a breathing machine but he did write a few things to me...

"Hi"
"Hi, Dad."
"Love You"
"I love you too, Dad."
"Wish I could talk"
"That's okay, Dad, you rest. I'm just glad to see you."

A pause for a few moments.

"Nice Shirt"

I laughed and I could tell that his eyes were laughing too.

Grow up or get out of the way because it's going to happen whether you like it or not

My dad goes in for surgery tomorrow afternoon.

Cancer...

It's in the lymphnodes and, although things look good for his recovery, the issue gets sticky because of the location of the cancer: his neck. The doctors say that they have to remove all the lymphnodes on the left side of his neck along with a portion of his jugular vein and most likely his sternocleidomastoid muscle as well. He may even lose a portion of his Accessory Nerve (one of the 12 Cranial Nerves). The loss of this will have an effect on his use and sensation of the left side of his neck and lower cheek. Not to mention the fact that his appearance will be different from here on out.

I won't sh** you, it's serious and I'm scared. Starting tomorrow things are going to be very different our family. Dad's life will be changed forever no matter how good the outcome and I don't know how ready I am to deal with that change. I want to run away. Ignore it. Smile, crack a joke and pretend that this will all go away if we just give it some time. But I would be left in the same place I always feel like I've been with that side of my family... standing on the outside looking in because I never would allow myself to get close enough. Keep them all at arms distance for it's too painful to be that close. It's too painful to deal with the messy stuff of life that inherently comes with family relationships.

But have you noticed that everything I've written so far is about ME!? What the hell is my problem that I can't for one moment get my focus off of myself and on to my dad. After all, he's the one with the cancer. He's the one that is having this surgery. He's the one that will have to deal so acutely with all these changes and all I can do is whine about my inability to deal with these things. I don't know if I am ready to deal with the change but the status quo sure the hell hasn't worked for me.

I am going to the hospital to be with my dad tomorrow because he's having surgery. He has cancer and he can't do this on his own. He needs me tomorrow and that's okay because I need him too. We'll get through this together.

Back (but not really)

I have noticed that the link to my blog missing on some blogs and not others.

It's a fair enough response, I suppose, since I haven't blogged in months and have been silent on all other accounts. I pretty much have dropped of the face of the blogisphere and I guess people got tired of waiting for my return to regular blogging. And I don't blame them. Long term blog silence can be interpreted as a lack of care or concern for the others in the blogging community.

Still, I can't help but feel a little hurt by this space-freeing action. After all, I've been removed from a list.

Cut off...

Deleted...

That stings. I mean, however much I deserved it, it's still a little painful to know that one can be dropped with the click of a button and, thus, removed to the cyber-wastebin.

Here's to knowing that the real friendship is not so easily severed as that cyber version.

As Funkiller always says, "Friends Blog" and I suppose he's right. Peace to all and, with a little luck, a return to regular blogging.