On the bright side, there’s still a second opinion to be had.
Midway though another crying jag, Debra gently told me that I had to assume the best instead of saying that my dad was going to die (in four to nine months, if the first opinion is to be believed). She was incredibly kind and firm and in that moment I realized that I underestimated her. I thought she was the best person I could have married and I knew she was making me a better person, but it wasn’t until i heard what she was saying and how she was saying it that I realized she’s better than I knew. So on the bright side, I’m really lucky to have married up.
The thing is, I can’t do what she asks. My mother and sisters have moved to a mindset of utter denial. Oh, dad has 5 years at least! When dad is 80 we’ll all have a good laugh about this. Dad and I need to get an RV we can use to travel cross country. Mom. Dad can’t drive. Like, ever, said the doctor. On the bright side, she was just one doctor.
I can tell dad I’m looking forward to father’s day next year but that’s about all I’ve got. Science says that it will be amazing if he gets five years. Actual science. This thing, that people don’t actually survive, doesn’t have miracles. It doesn’t give me comfort to tell myself that the doctor is obviously wrong (sister 1) or that dad is strong enough to beat it (sister 2). He isn’t a healthy, young women. There’s no promise that he’ll be “an exceptional responder”. There is no evidence that this cancer will spare him when it takes everyone else. There is no bright side.
In front of my mother, in front of my father, I am determined. I can believe that he will fight (that he can fight, at least, though he may not choose to). I can believe that he will have the best medical care. I can believe that we will do everything possible to give him as many days as we can squeeze out of this cancer. I can believe that we will take care of my mother through this. I can believe that anything is possible even if I can’t assume it’s probable.
i’ve dug deep trying to reframe denial as hope but it’s not who I am. I am practical. I am driven. I am determined. I am losing my father. On the bright side, I haven’t lost him yet.