So I tried the method of not talking on LJ about the fact that my dad has cancer and I'm not coping with it at all.  What it's meant, though, is that I haven't been posting at all, because my dad's illness, me losing my dad, and memories of my dad from my childhood have been the only things I've been thinking about, and my rule was not to post about those things.  Heck, I just didn't want to be that person, you know, where you see my user name, and think "gaaa, don't want to read THAT, it's Edith going on about her dad again!" Nobody wants to be that person.  

However, my dad's condition has been found to be worse than originally expected, and I'm coping worse than I predicted, and the world is falling apart [but the Weekly World News predicted that years ago, so I shouldn't have been so surprised!] - and I need an outlet. So, skip my entries if you like, but they'll be here.  Edith Jones [that's an alias] and her dad, age 77, who has cancer of the prostate and the bone.  

He doesn't even know about the bone cancer yet.  My sister-in-law does - with his full permission she has been in contact with the labs who test him and his specialist [I should mention here that she's a doctor!], and is getting every bit of information that she can, as she adores my dad and feels somewhat more in control of the situation if she is literally in control of the situation.  She found out on Tuesday about the bone cancer; the specialist figures it's been around for a couple of years.  I asked her while she was driving me to work on Wednesday about my dad's condition and I will say that she tried not to tell me on my way into a long shift at work, but I was persistent, and thus ended up working a 10-hour shift right after receiving the news about the bone cancer.  

Dear Lord, it's supposed to be so painful, and if he's had it for the last couple of years no wonder he's been complaining so much about the pain.  And we've all been SO sick of listening to him going on and on and interminably on about the pain and he's had nothing more that Tylenol with codeine for it and all this time the poor old beggar has had bone cancer and he must have been going through hell.  I don't feel guilty because I simply could not have known, but I feel so much pain for him, my poor poor old dad, suffering all that time through this.  Carol tells me that he is untreatable, really, and that they're looking not at treatment options but at pain relief options.  I like the idea of my dad not being in pain so very much.  Thinking about him in pain for all this time is what makes me cry.  Yes, now, if you're wondering.

My supervisor was so patient with me yesterday.  He is one of the best of men, and very kind, and believe me, I found out just how kind and sympathetic yesterday.  "I'm popping down to the ladies room" yesterday could mean one of two things - "I'll be back in 3 minutes after a quick tinkle" or "I'll be back in 20 minutes after I've sobbed in the ladies' room, reassured two well-meaning shoppers that I'm just fine, visited the nice young woman at the Lancome counter [again] and had my makeup freshened up and a fresh coat of powder applied".  Once when I came back, Z., who doesn't really approve of makeup on women due to his religion, said to me "that is a very nice powder that A. puts on you after your cry", which made me laugh - that he noticed such things, and that he would acknowledge the practical use of the world of makeup artistry!!

This is the second time I've typed up this entry [it was quite different the last time] - the first time my cellphone for some random reason lost its internet connection, which has never happened before.  I keep looking at it, almost obsessively to make sure that a particular light remains yellow.  

Posting really has helped.  Is it okay that I post about my feelings about my dad dying?  Seriously, I want to know - I don't want to be a major drag.  And I am going to need to post on some of the good stuff that happens in my life or I am going to end up seriously depressed.  Thanks for listening, LJ Friends.

My dad has cancer, on both sides of his prostate.  This is not good.  He's 77 years old, will be 78 in July.  The doctor has offered him radiation treatment but my father has so far refused.  As this was the day that my dad received the diagnosis, I'd like to be able to say that it's because of the shock that my father turned down the treatment, but I know better. My dad has, for a long time, made it pretty clear that he's ready to die. I knew that if the diagnosis was positive that he would refuse treatment and so did my mum; we both made up our minds to support him in it, although it's hard.  I don't know how to accept the fact that my dad has cancer and that he's going to die at some point. 

They gave him a number - a PSA number it might have been?, which runs on a scale from 2 to 10 - his is 7.  Neither my mum nor I know what that mean - my parents inquired, were fully informed, but my mum's forgotten because there was too much to take in.  Winnowill, would you happen to know what these numbers are?  

I don't know what to do. I feel just horrible. 

-Edith.