My dad has been sick for the past few months. I wish he had the flu.
But actually he has lung cancer.
However, he's doing well right now. Considering.
He just finished his last round of radiation last week. Sadly, he's not even new to the cancer thing. He first got diagnosed back in on September 30, 2003.
When I woke up that morning, I remembered it was the 30th Anniversary of James Dean's death, because I collect random movie trivia like other people might collect stamps or tea-pots.
I had no idea that I would end the day learning my dad had been in the hospital because he was throwing up blood.
I was away in Atlanta at Portfolio Center trying to become a copy-writer.
Since I had recently graduated, I headed back home to Michigan, and my dad offered to let me live with him. This was working out great. I needed a place to live, and he needed help with his cancer treatments.
No, I didn't actually adminster any needles or any such thing, but I went with him to doctor's appointments. I helped him pick out scarves the day his hair fell out, and I stood patiently while he spend an hour in the produce section alone of Meijer''s.
And then I finally got a job writing copy and moved out.
But he is sick again.
A new tumor which is supposedly good news. And I have a new copy writer job, and no that doesn't mean I spent my days making the ® symbols either. But now it is harder because I'm not there every day. I go spend weekends sometimes and visit after work, but it's not the same.
It is strange to be taking care of my dad. A bit of role reveresal. Mostly, I'm glad he lets me. It is nice to return the favor.
I remember when I was in junior high, and my dad had called when I would have been getting ready to say hi. He was always up at the crack of dawn. Literally. It wouldn't be unusual for him to call you at 6 am and ask what are you doing?
I told him that I wasn't going to school and went to take a nap.
I woke up a few hours later to a knock on the door.
My dad had brought me soup and the new tape single of Madonna's song, Cherish.
I'm not sure how he knew that it was my favorite song at the time.
I only know that dads" have a way of surprising us, and they listen even if we think they can't hear us.