No, i’m not OK actually.

I call my dad everyday now, ever since I got the news that basically changed everything earlier this month.  Life is much, much too short and I don’t want to have that guilt of knowing that I didn’t call my dad that one last time.

Today was no different, I got up early and called my dad.  He has lots of company these days and he tires easily so I try to get to him before everyone else does.  So I was shocked when my phone started ringing at 10 am and it was my mom saying the words that no one ever wants to hear:

“The Doctor was here to see your dad today, they’re not expecting him to make it through the weekend.  How fast can you get on a plane and get here.”

Not a bus or a train.  A plane, because the flight it short, I would get home much faster.  At that moment, it felt like my mom reached through the phone and sucker punched me.

You see, I’ve been pretty far removed from the whole situation with my dad.  I basked in the blissfulness that was my ignorance.  I knew what was coming, I’ve known it since June when the diagnosis first came to light.  Yet I was able to pretend that it wasn’t happening because I didn’t physically see it.  So my first instinct was to say no, if I didn’t go home then this wouldn’t happen.  The last time I fell apart this hard was when I got the news that Jason had passed away.  Yet this just seemed to be somewhat more insulting because it’s my dad.

Had Nick not been there to hold me up, I would have fallen to the floor.  Bawling.  I would have won an Oscar for my epic ugly cry.  Except it wasn’t a performance, this is my life.

I’ve never flown anywhere before.  I’ve never had the luxury of going anywhere special, being a Chef doesn’t really give you the time or the affordability to take any significant time off.  So clearly I have never stepped foot into Montreal’s airport, which is pretty daunting under normal circumstances, even more so when you’re crying so hard that you can’t breathe, let alone think and try to plan an emergency trip home to see your dad to say good-bye.

Also, I am afraid of heights.  So going on a plane alone?  Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

Thankfully my other half is much more well traveled than I am and will be able to accompany me to Ontario.  Today has been tough so i’m just trying to keep it together for my family and do what I can from here until I get there.  So I’m OK right now, but that doesn’t last that long.  It comes and goes.  I will forever be astounded at just how hard and fast those feels can hit you.

So if you ask me if i’m OK and I say yes I might be lying.

I’m sorry. 


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“3 months, maybe a year, no one really knows for sure.”

This is what my mom said to me the other day when she called to update me on the situation with my dad.  The prognosis was never good, however I (and most likely him and a few other people) thought that we had more time and suddenly it would seem that there isn’t nearly enough.  The emotional roller coaster I am on right now is my worst nightmare.  Today is an angry day.  Fucking doctors and their need to make money at seemingly any cost.

What ever happened to the oath that Doctors are supposed to take.  You know the one where it says:

“Whatsoever house I may enter, my visit shall be for the convenience and advantage of the patient; and I will willingly refrain from doing any injury or wrong from falsehood, and (in an especial manner) from acts of an amorous nature, whatever may be the rank of those who it may be my duty to cure, whether mistress or servant, bond or free”.

Evidently none of that matters if the person you’re treating is going to die sooner rather than later.  Except that stupid radiation treatment (that I always thought was pointless) ate up time.  Time that should have been spent with family and friends, cherishing those last moments.  But no no, that cancer “needed” to be treated.  Doesn’t matter that your patients lungs are so riddled with a fatal lung disease that the tiny cancer tumor that wasn’t even a inch long, just HAD to go.  Had to bust out that biopsy “just in case”.

Oh hey, maybe we can do a lung transplant, except we can’t because you’ll die on the table from the anesthetic because your disease is too far advanced. Too late for you because your family doctor is a useless twat who ignored your constant stream of lung infections and wrote them off as ‘nothing’.  We’re going to give you a radiation treatment to kill the cancer cells and in doing so, we’re going to destroy your immune system.

You’ll have an amazing Christmas with your family but that will be short lived because of the radiation treatment.  You’re going to end up with a vicious lung infection that will almost kill you in your sleep, yet you managed to get yourself to the hospital just in time.  Now you’re completely dependent on oxygen 24/7 because we’re doctors, we have God complexes, we’re greedy as fuck and don’t give a flying fuck that you’re family is going to be the one’s who are left to pick up the pieces while we steal your dignity and your life.

I have no words.  NONE.

Although I can only hope that karma bites them in the ass or they get struck by a bus.  Can’t suck away all my hope, it’s not much but right now it’s all I have.

This is a game changer, because now there’s an actual time limit and time?

It goes by too damn fast and it scares me to death.