Thursday, January 13, 2011


Wow, things are escalating so fast that I actually feel a little out of breath from the shock and surprise of it. As I told Heather on the phone earlier, "It's one thing to think words like 'hospice' and 'two-to-three months' and another to hear them said out loud-- or to find yourself saying them."

I have still not talked to my dad's doctor, but I got a nurse to tell me that they were planning to release my dad after the weekend... into a hospice care facility. I then convinced a social worker I knew a bit more than I do-- I dropped the word hospice and found out that my father asked about it this morning.

Then, I got hold of my dad. And I told him we are coming. And he is glad. Matt is driving out there as I type this. I just bought a one-way train ticket. He has decided not to pursue chemo because it's just a race now to see which organ fails first from the cancer. "It's a very fast-acting cancer" he told me when I said this was very different from what we had heard just two weeks ago. Apparently so. Well, Matt and I didn't really think a year was realistic, but wow. This is happening so fast. They said a year two weeks ago. They are saying two to three months now-- so, will I get out there in time? In time for what? How many times do you say goodbye exactly?

Of course, there is also the matter of my mother. And she must be freaking out right now. I am sure she does not yet know about hospice, Matt's visit, or the short prognosis. She hasn't seen him since Monday-- my dad was feeling awful and didn't want visitors. Our plans for her change daily or by the minute sometime, but we are all concerned with trying to mitigate her own fears and concerns and grief. I cannot for the life of me, given what I have learned, imagine why I am still in Missouri. Why didn't I know that I should have been out there all week? What was I waiting for?

However, let's not forget that I still have not spoken with the actual doctor. Things seem to be changing constantly. The only constant may be change, but does it have to occur so quickly?


  1. Oh Jen, I'm so sorry! I hope you have a safe trip out to Utah and I'll still keep you in my thoughts and prayers! It's times like this that words truly fail to convey the appropriate sentiments. I know it won't be easy waiting for the inevitable as I've been there with my dad.

  2. Love you, Jen. Sending my hugs and all of my care.

  3. So sorry it's all so fast. Thinking of you. Sending love.

  4. Sending good thoughts across the ocean to you.....