October 14, 2013


I'm going to be frank.
The last couple of weeks have been really stressful.
My Dad is pretty sick.
He had surgery just over a week ago
and developed pneumonia while in recovery.

This is what I was afraid of.
I wasn't afraid of the surgery.
I was afraid of the recovery.

You see, when I was in university,
my voice teacher (who was in her 70's at the time)
was diagnosed with cancer
and she had to have surgery.
It wasn't the surgery that took her
it was the infection that came after that she just couldn't fight.
She was 10 years younger than my Dad is now, so ~

And so.
He is getting better, finally.
But the last week is a blur.
It felt like time stopped
and I can't remember much of anything.
I developed this pain that shot through my back straight through my chest.
It felt like I'd been stabbed through the back.
It was hard to breathe.
I battled a flu/cold/something all week.
I was exhausted every night.
I would go to bed
and not dream.
I would just pass out.

This has been a long weekend.
But good news came on Friday
that he's out of ICU
and they've got him up and out of bed a few times.

So the pain went away.
As did the cold / flu.
But I'm still afraid
of all of the possibilities 
that I imagined 
before I knew 
that he was getting better.
And the life that I saw
and who I was.

But now I'm just waiting
for when his voice comes back
so I can talk to him again
and tell him myself that I'm here
and that I'm hoping
that he'll soon

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