Told Mark To Go To Dentist:

 me:  well im making you an appointment

 Mark:  ugh

ugh

uggggghhhh

 me:  with a doctor too

 Mark:  waaahhhh

what

 me:  GONNA DO THIS

 Mark:  why

i dont need a doctor

 me:  why dont you

 Mark:  im not sick

 me:  and when you are who will you go to

 Mark:  well i dont need an apointment yet

you can find one

 me:  insurance pays for an exam

 Mark:  i dont want an exam

 me:  why dont you want to get one

why

you need to

 Mark:  ughh

 me:  stop it

 Mark:  i hate them

 me:  im doing it

i dont care

 Mark:  dont make me kill myself

 me:  dont make me kill myself

In January when Dad got sick, Dad had called my sister and left her a voicemail the night before his repiratory system failed on him & he would not speak normally again. She has kept that voicemail, and I've been so jealous that I didn't ever keep things. I didn't keep cards or anything. Well, until now.

Yesterday, I found 3 voicemails from my Dad dating back to November.

The first was the day before Thanksgiving. He had just received a call asking for another lumbar puncture. I remember that day. His eye had closed on him and he felt awful. Anyway, I listened to the voicemails and immediately bawled. It was so bittersweet to hear his voice. I mean, I hear him in my head all the time, but to be reminded of his voice was so great.

I miss that man so much it hurts. Everything reminds me of him. Everything. To think that a year ago, he was so healthy.

The hospital that treated him has not said one thing to me or my sister. We have been sent a standard grievance packet, but not one thing from his oncologist. The oncologist that waited 3 weeks to tell us that Dad was dying. 3 weeks he could have spent at home. He saw that man and his nurses just about every other day for 6 months. It really pisses me off quite honestly, but I'm trying not to let it bother me so much.

I'd say the best words two people have said to me are, "You'll think of him everyday. Some days those memories will make you cry, some days you'll laugh. But, you'll think of him everyday."

These past few weeks have been hard. Really hard. I find myself still not completely grasping the fact that Dad is gone. I will never see him again. I will never hear him again. I only find comfort in the fact that he's not going through what he was going through anymore.

I'm angry that he had to go through all that. I'm angry because he should be here, with me. I'm doing all of my garden stuff and planting new grass and I actually cried in the front yard today because I thought of him.

He was our best friend in Louisville. Now, we don't really have anything to do. I've been on the edge of boredom this week. It's been nice to have free time, but it's different. I enjoyed seeing Dad everyday.

My great uncle asked me last weekend what I liked to do outside of work. I paused, then said I'd have to figure that out again. We haven't had a life for 7 months outside of hospitals. I honestly don't know what I like to do anymore.

The 14th marked one month since dad got terribly sick and was put on a ventilator. While I'm happy he is where he is now with his recovery, he has such a long way to go. A long, long way to go.

His weight last Friday was 126lbs. He was in the 150s when he first entered the hospital. He's lost all his muscle mass. He had already lost most of it by then from the chemo. I'm just so heartbroken that he's having to go through all of this. And then he asked the question I've been hoping he wouldn't think about a couple days ago.

He asked, "Do we know how the cancer is doing?" I said, "No, we're going to have to wait until you get better before they can test you again." Then he said, "If I still have cancer, then what's the point of all of this?"

That's the question that's been looming in my mind for a month. If he still has cancer, is he still a candidate for any treatment? Will he ever be a candidate for a bone marrow transplant again? Will he ever be able to live independently again? All of these have been heavy on my heart and mind. At this point we have to take every day as it comes and not look too far ahead of ourselves.

On Tuesday, Dad failed his swallow test... again. We were told that he did ok, but last night we were told that he really failed it. Imagine not having anything in your mouth for 4 weeks. Anything. No water, no food, nothing. He is desperate to have a drink of water. He needs to gain weight, which he can't do as well through a feeding tube.

I just want need something positive to happen. I feel so defeated. We have all been fighting this battle that seems like a losing one.

And tonight my work is hosting a party for cancer survivors. If I don't sob the whole night, it will be a miracle.

Mark has been so incredibly amazing these last few months. He's fixed me dinner, he's let me endlessly pout and he's even laid out clothes for me to wear when I'm too sad and tired to even think about what I'm wearing. I tell him hourly how great he is and that's not enough.

This has all been extremely overwhelming and heartbreaking. I've had so many personal discussions with dad about things he wants to happen before he ever got sick that I'm scared he will be uncomfortable and miserable when this is all through.

Last Saturday, right after dad was being admitted into the ICU, we were waiting in the waiting room and the doctor came in to get my consent to put dad on a ventilator. He was telling us all these facts and what to expect, etc. and he just paused and asked, "Are you doing all this alone?" and I just started crying. We aren't technically doing this alone, but it sure feels like it at times. I know people don't want to be a burden. I'm tired of hearing the words, "Let me know what I can do." because that means they aren't going to do anything unless i ask. Which isnt something I do.

Anyway, if anyone knows where I can get some luck, let me know.

Hoping and praying, personally, gets me nowhere.

2011, at a glance.

• I got laid off in February; I went to visit Kat in Oklahoma the following week.
• I did a lot of house work. I got a lot "neater" than I used to be. I painted some rooms.
• I got hired at another newspaper, except it's a million times better than the CJ. I love the people I work with. Well, most of them.
• The very week I start working is the week dad gets diagnosed with cancer. Talk about timing.
• The rest has been, well, read the blog.

In 2012....

• I hope that my dad gets the care he needs and gets healthy enough to plant his garden in the spring.
• I plan to make a quilt if dad stays at the hospital like expected.
• I plan to beg Mark to let me get another Olga.
• I hope we start finishing our attic.