When my dad got diagnosed with brain cancer, my mind immediately put that into the ‘bad’ category. Which makes sense. But if I’m honest, it’s not the full truth. I’m not minimising how bad the crap stuff has been.
Because that crapness is oh-so true.
But some pretty good amazing things have happened as a direct result of my dad’s diagnosis. And they’re true too.
Here are just a few
…
My dad thinks of himself as a ‘positive person’. And whether I’m right or wrong, in the past I’ve felt his positivity (and his perception of himself as someone who flows with life) was 68% truth and 32% repression.
When dad had a chunk of his brain removed as part of his treatment, my brother and I expected him to resist his new limitations. So we confiscated his car keys.
But…
We’ve only had a handful of visits from them in the nearly 30 years we’ve lived in Australia, so that’s not a small thing.
OK, so this next thing involves something I seldom discuss in public.
Before dad got sick, my brother and I hadn’t spoken for almost 4 years. Which was horrible and painful - but less painful than the difficulty, the disconnect and the bullshit that preceded our estrangement.
Technically nothing between my brother and I has been ‘resolved’. But it doesn’t need to be. We’re working together to do what we can for dad. And that’s more than enough for now.
We finally have the relationship that I suspect both of us always wanted.
Of course, these ‘good’ things don’t rule out the crapness. But they’re worth noticing. They’re worth valuing. Because they are just as much a part of this experience as the shit stuff.
Are you ready?
.
.
.
.
Woohoo!
I’m not naïve enough to think it’s over. The cancer is very likely to return, so Dad will be having another 6 months of chemo (at least). He feels like shit. He has no energy, and has lost a decent part of his brain. His vision is affected. As is his balance, his mood and his ability to make plans, read or watch tv. He can’t sleep and his head hurts most of the time.
But for now, he is cancer free. And that’s the kind of miracle worth celebrating!
I’m wildly aware that we are super lucky. We live in a peaceful country with an overstretched, but nevertheless reasonable medical system. We have the support of family and friends. And my dad’s beautiful body responded to the treatment.
Not everyone is as lucky.
This will continue to unfold however it will unfold. We’ll take it one day at a time. But honestly, isn’t that how we all live anyway?
Thanks for your support of me and of this publication. I love creating it, and I feel like I’m doing it both for you and for me. The proverbial win-win!
If you have anything to say about this, or anything at all, here’s the comment button:
If you’d prefer to answer one or more questions, here’s some I prepared earlier!
What was your favourite drawing this week (I ask this all the time coz I’m always fascinated that people pick different ones!)
What are the best non-fiction books you’ve read?
Do you eat/drink a treat at night? I’ve been craving this lately and have gone with Baileys, herbal tea, decaff coffee, berries, dairy-free ice-cream (not at the same time!)
Do you like crosswords? And if yes, what do you like about them? I love words, but have never gotten into crosswords (or even given them a chance, really).
Got any minor or major miracles in your world that you’d like us to help you celebrate?
See you in the comments!
What a beautiful story, and I definitely see your dad's positivity in you when you told your cruise ship story
My Dad the Acceptance Ninja. Beautiful heart warming story, well written. Thank you.