It was as we were finishing up our dinner on Thursday that the text came through from my mum regarding my dad.
He hadn't been well this week and had ended up in A&E twice with a pain shooting down his arm. He had been in agony, unable to move it, his arm feeling cold and numb.
On Thursday he had received a call from his GP asking him to go straight to the surgery.
"Hi Tan," mum's text began. "I'm sorry to upset you but today dr surgery called and told him he has got in two places lung cancer and prescribe morphine".
My world shattered.
I immediately left the table to phone them and dad answered. I wasn't meant to know yet, which explained why mum took the option to text me on the quiet. But I knew now.
"Speak to me," Dad said. "Don't phone me just to cry. Speak to me."
How could it happen?
Minutes before Mike and I were talking with the children about Christmas being only ten days away. How we were looking forward to it and how we'd be spending Christmas Eve with Nanny and Grandad, Ben and Steph. My main concern five minutes previously was how much wrapping I had left to do, and whether I'd get Christmas cards sent out on time.
This was so unexpected.
My dad. My dear, sweet, funny dad. How can this happen to my dad?
The doctor told him that the hospital had carried out an x-ray on his lungs as well as his shoulder. The x-ray showed two patches on his lungs. One, he said, might be something to do with the shoulder. The second was definitely cancer.
The dr had left him hanging. At the moment there is no appointment lined up, no idea of how far along the cancer is or what the prognosis is. All Dad was told was that the departments would speak and decide what to do. Then he sent him home.
Christmas has taken on a new meaning for us. Where before I took for granted that we would have many more, now I'm thinking we won't.
My mind can't rest. I feel angry. So angry. I sleep fitfully, waking up and trying to work out if I am dreaming this, then realise it's all real and I get angry.
I am so
angry.
I have cried, cried, cried. For a second here and there, I'll be occupied with something else and my mind has a moment to "forget". Except I haven't forgotten anything, and I quickly jolt back and remember why my eyes are sore and why my heart is hurting so badly.
My dad. I am not ready to be without my dad. Old as I am, I need him. I love him. I don't want to be without him. I want him to see my babies grow up. I want to be able to hug him. I want to be able to speak to him. I want to do all this for more years yet. I can't bear the thought of life without him.
When I spoke to him he, in his typical way, tried to joke and make light of it. How can you make light of cancer? I know he's terrified but he's still trying to take care of us, to tell us everything is ok but it's not.
"I just don't want to feel pain" he told me.
Please pray for us. Pray for him, for whatever he has to go through next.
Pray for him, please.
Just pray.
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