The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

An unusually serious moment for me...

Today, my dad is having a biopsy. About six weeks ago, he woke up with a sore throat and some pain in his ear. Like most of us would, he assumed it was a possible ear infection or maybe even a strep infection and went to the doctor after it seemed to get worse after a few days. He even went to an ear, nose and throat doctor. The man never even LOOKED in his throat. He prescribed some ear drops to my dad and sent him home. Five days later, no improvement, so he goes to see his primary doctor. She never even LOOKED in his throat. She prescribes an antibiotic "just to be safe" and sends him for an x-ray. The x-ray shows arthritis. So, he goes home, thinking he has to deal with it.

Another week goes by, now his voice is affected. He sounds 'warbly', like there's something stuck in his throat. By now, even though initially relieved that it was "only arthritis", I can't deny I'm not worried now. He goes back to the ear, nose and throat doctor and imagine that? He looks in his throat now. He spots a growth at the base of his tongue. A month has gone by and a month this thing has had to grow. They schedule a biopsy...for three weeks later. Well, three weeks later is today.

I'm one of those people who wears their emotions on their sleeve. I've tried to control it over the years; I really, really stink at it. I cry during certain commercials even and can barely even talk about my mom still without getting choked up. Granted, she just passed in Spring, 2009 from, what else, cancer, but it's just a part of me. I realize people expect me to be sad, but I know that my constant panic is overwhelming. I get tired of hearing (some) people say that "well, they can't be with us forever" (yes, someone actually said that to me), but that doesn't mean I'm ready to give him up just yet.

That brings me for a moment to my kids. The day my dad went to the doctor and found out about the lump, I did my very best to not blubber on the phone, but I did. So, I told my dad I would let him go and call him back later when I could compose myself better. My son was home and picked right up on my panic. This is where I completely lose all sense of what to do. When my mom was sick, I did my best to keep the worst of it from them. Even when we had their birthday party (they are born on the 25th and 26th of March) in my mom's bedroom, 2 weeks before she died, they didn't pick up on how bad things were. They just thought she was in bed, not feeling well. So, when she died, I had the hardest time telling them.

Now that yet again, someone they love dearly is sick, I don't know what to tell them. They are used to seeing him on a regular basis and now, for weeks, I keep telling them that he "doesn't feel well". Telling them what is really going on is a tough call. How much do we tell the kids? They know that their grandmother is never coming back and they talk about her all the time. It's hard enough hearing S say how she wishes "Mom Mom would come back for her birthday and give her presents" or how A mentions that "he misses her, but maybe he'll see her again one day". Of course S is six and A is thirteen, so there are different awareness levels going on. Sure, I hold out that teeny little piece of hope that it's some benign growth. Sure, it's possible. I also have to be realistic too. The thought of that wretched C word showing up in my life again makes me nauseous. However, at least today we are on our way to finding out the truth, no matter how much the truth hurts.

I wish I could hear from parents of children with similar challenges and hear how they dealt with these delicate and very scary situations. I feel very alone right now.