I hate waiting to know what is going to happen to my father. For the last six weeks we have been to doctors, xrays, appointments, DSHS offices, and filled out more forms than I can even remember, to find out if he has cancer. On Wednesday they found the tumor. On Monday they will biopsy it to see what kind of tumor it is, although the doctors are fairly confident that it is larynx cancer. They don't think it has spread, but it may have. They will probably take out all of his lymph nodes so that it won't spread. He may lose his vocal chords completely and get a box to talk through. My poor father will then be even more poor.
With my Uncle I was ready to fight. I put on my boxing gloves and said "Bring it on". Not so much this time. I know I will fight, but this time I feel battle-worn. My heart and body are already battered, but that does not stop my diligence and determination, for this all must be done. And so I will fight, even though I would rather curl up in my grief with a cuppa' and watch Anne of Green Gables.
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