Monday, August 21, 2006

Only You Can Prevent Forrest Fires

I remember as a kid, watching the Public Service Annoucements with Smokey the Bear, telling me, that I could prevent forrest fires, but putting out my campsite fire, and not leaving lit cigarettes in a pile of dried brush. Even to my 8 year old ears, it seemed like a reasonable idea.

So, how come the same idea is nearly impossible to grasp as an adult? My dad, as I've mentioned, as lung cancer. And as early as last week, he had an operation to remove a tumor from his throat. His friend brought him home from the hospital, and written right on the directions from the doctor, was a note, "No Smoking or Drinking."

Yesterday, I went to visit my dad, which wasn't a good visit. Turns out, my dad's decided that things are not going well, and therefore, has decided to smoke. When I ask him about it, he says, Well, I'm worried, and I'm going to get bad news."

I'm pretty sure that whatever bad news you're going to get, smoking isn't going to help the situation. I understand cigarettes are addicting. I get that cancer is scary, but what I don't get, is why a person won't do whatever they can, to help themselves get healthy. It's really up to God, how all of this works out, but c'mon.

Quit making it worse. I can't keep coming over to watch my dad self destruct. I can't make him stop, but I don't have to watch him hurt himself.

Monday, August 07, 2006

The Waiting Game

My dad has been battling lung cancer since October 1, 2003.

That's the day we all found out. I had gotten a call on September 30th while in Atlanta, when my mom told me that my dad had been admitted to the hospital. I remember the date, cause when I woke up that morning, I'd been thinking about James Dean's death.

Not my father's. But we all adjusted, and freaked out and cried. I called Barrie, Carl, and Nik from the dirty hospital parking lot in Atlanta to report the news. The comforting part isn't what they said. What could they say?

No, the comforting part is that my friends let me say whatever I needed to, and didn't try to tell me it was God's way or any shit like that. Carl mixed me drinks before I left, Barrie listened quietly, and Nik told me a story about a mongrel dog that needed to be shot.

It helped me then. And it helps me now. I just found out that my dad's cancer that had previously left is back. This time in his throat. The good news, if you can beleive it, is that they can operate this time and remove the damn tumor.

That's all I know right now. So, please keep my dad in your thoughts or prayers if you're so inclined.

He needs us. And I need him.