Oh, Crap


Oh, Crap

operating-217151_640My dad had his procedure this morning to remove the tumor in his bladder. All went well in that the procedure went without a hitch.

We'll meet with the doctor in early February to go over the results of the biopsy and discuss the course of treatments.

The day started early and I once again suggested my dad do something about his allergies. "I blow my nose," was his retort. I have no idea why I can't just let this one go. Perhaps my irritation about his allergies heightens with my anxiety about his future.

My sister went with us, which worked out terrific. The staff and doctor were great and very thorough. During the pre-procedure intake, the anesthesiologist discovered my dad's pupils are not the same size. My dad doesn't exhibit any signs of a stroke but we have to follow up with his physician just to be on the safe side.

The urologist met with us before the procedure to explain what would happen. He answered all our questions, including the difference between a high grade and low grade tumor. We hoped for a low grade tumor.

After the procedure, the urologist met with my mom and my sister. Unfortunately, it appears the tumor is high grade although we'll know more from the pathologist's report. My mom was surprised and upset at the news.

My dad did well in recovery and we discussed what the doctor had told us. I shared what the doctor said, clearly explaining without hedging. When the news sunk it, he said, "Oh, crap."

A few moments later, my mom went to the bathroom and my dad asked me, "Should I be happy?"

I answered, "You should be happy that the procedure is over and that you're going home without a catheter." He brightened up immediately and agreed those were two good reasons to be happy.

I have to remember that while I share the truth with my parents about what's happening, they sometimes tell themselves a different truth or process the truth at a different speed. My sister and I both knew today would bring difficult news. I think my dad suspected. My mom did not.

The hard part is shouldering the bad news when those receiving the bad news look so vulnerable, as my parents do. I remind myself that I'm not with them to protect them from the bad news but to support and comfort them through it.

And, so we move to next, whatever next may be.

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