I was upset and crying so much I couldn’t get to sleep. I came out to the living room and started to decorate the tree. My mom was puttering around in the kitchen fixing herself something to eat when I heard a strange crash. She’d fallen and cut her head open. Not a bad cut, but enough to freak me out.
I called 911, and they did a routine check over. Her heart rate was crazy again, and she’s been having trouble breathing, so they took her to the hospital. I know how much she hates to go, but if she’s sick, she needs to be treated. This may also give my dad a chance to really relax and maybe feel a little better.
My stress level, though? Its up there.
I’ve become exceptional at one thing this month-worrying. I’ve always been good at it, but my ability has flown into hyper awesome awareness in this past month.
I was just hanging a few ornaments on the tree, as decorating the tree was on my agenda this evening until I started to worry about something and my mood plummeted (ok, the massive headache didn’t help). I ended up taking an evening nap, so even though I want to just go to sleep, I’m not sure that I would. But I digress, I was hanging a few ornaments on the tree and found myself worrying that they’d all be drooping off by Christmas. That dampened my already sour mood. I’ve got this feeling that its really important that this Christmas be nice because it just feels important. I mean, I live with family, but it just doesn’t always seem like family, and my subconscious thinks Christmas can save all.
But one thing in particular is really bothering me tonight. My mom had a doctors appointment but my dad had her cancel it because he doesn’t feel well. First off, I could have taken her and I don’t know why he didn’t think of that, but when I asked him what was wrong, he shook his head and waved me off. He won’t tell anyone what’s wrong. The reason this is so disturbing is because two years ago, he was diagnosed with stage 4 throat cancer and had to have a laryngectomy, because it was completely swallowing his “voice box.” The doctor felt confident that he got all of it, but still wanted my dad to have radiation because of one particular spot he was worried about. My dad elected not to do the radiation. The doctor had said something about with the surgery and the radiation he had an excellent five year survival rate. But without the radiation, not following up with the doctor, and going back to smoking and drinking, I’m sure he cut that survival rate to who knows what.
Long and short of it, my dad looks like hell. He’s uber thin because he barely eats, he’s pale as a ghost, and spends most of his time sitting in a chair bent over like he’s in pain. I’m scared to death that he’s dying, and I don’t know what to do. He won’t go to the doctor, won’t tell anyone what it is. I’m seriously freaked out. I’m not ready to lose a parent, especially because I’m afraid my mom wouldn’t be far behind. Facing your parents mortality really sucks.