I'm home, with my family. Soaking up all the time I can with my Dad. My wonderful, hilarious, wacky Dad is dying. We started hospice yesterday after getting the news Friday that the cancer isn't responding to chemo and is spreading. My Dad was ready to stop treatment anyway so hospice was the only choice left. His doctor told us that he has maybe a month, the hospice nurse thinks it will be a couple of weeks. I don't want either option.
He is having a really good day today and is very alert. He doesn't say much but he laughs at us and plays with the grandkids. We're all camped out here, nobody wants to leave his side for a moment. We're all in this together and making the best out of this horrible situation. I keep forgetting that it's really happening. It doesn't seem real to me. Even as I call funeral homes, make plans and coordinate his care, it feels like I'm talking about someone else. I don't want this to be real, please don't let it be real. He's only 54, how the hell am I suppose to live the rest of my life without him? How can it be that my Dad will never hold my child? How is it possible for me to be here, typing this, when my heart is shattered?
Cancer fucking sucks.