My sister called last night. She and her husband had been talking. They suggested I come up while Dad was still feisty and not, if things go badly, on death's door. Sound reasoning, because we still don't know the extent of the cancer. The doctors still don't have a specific treatment plan. And we don't know what will happen once he begins treatment. So many balls up in the air right now and none of us are experienced jugglers.
Truth be told, I had the same thought, even though Dad told me there was no point. I want to be there to support him because he seems dead-set on going about it alone. It's not surprising - after all, who wants to see a loved one in pain because you are ill? Who wants their memory tainted by their progression into weakness? So, I understand his fears, but if things go wrong, I would never forgive myself for not being there. (And, if things go right, I'd just have some unexpected extra time with my dad.)
My mom still chooses to work even though she's retired. Both my sisters work, too, leaving Dad to fend for himself for most of the day. He still can, at this point in his diagnosis, so why not go and spend some time with him while he's reasonably well?
I do worry more, though, because I hear from my sister he isn't eating much - which worries my sister - and he refused a feeding tube - which worries my mom. I wonder why the delay, why my delay. Shouldn't I be there by now?
Enter COVID. Gods damn COVID. I have to go to the airport. I have to take a plane to get there. I have to sit on said plane for 8 hours. I will absolutely, no question, have to quarantine when I get there. I can't be the cause of my father's death, complications from COVID. I realize he's going to die eventually - days, weeks, months, years? - but it would be a horrible way to go. (Yes, if you have read my post about being an asshole, I recognize my hypocrisy. Maybe that makes me an even bigger asshole? Yes, probably, but the jury's still out.)
I'm calling him today to check up on him and I'll make my decision after that. I feel like someone has dumped a truck full of ping pong balls on me. Can someone fetch me a basket?
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