Daddy

I'm so worried about what today will bring. I fear mostly that my strong, never-say-die, invincible father, will end up with something that, not only can't be fixed, but can't even be managed. What he has isn't easily treated - and Plan A failed. Plan C won't happen - not in his lifetime anyway. So a great deal will hinge on Plan B.

He went to the GP Monday with the expectation that Bill would just double his dose again and he would go home and everything would be fine. Not quite. There is a limit to what this medication will do - and it appears that, in his case, we have reached that limit. Adding more to it will do very little (nothing) and put even more stress on what already is a stressed out organ. So, since Monday, he's had to suck it up.

I went to Mums yesterday morning on the way to work; to 'drop off some spagetti tins' (read: to see how he was). He was in bed when I got there. The central heater was set at 28 (my POOR mother!!) and he was in bed fully clothed. Just before I left I went in to say goodbye - and honest to god he looked like he was about to die. Just so pale and frail and still.

I got in the car and, for the first time, howled. And, for the first time, contemplated my fathers invincibility. He could not get out of this one. He's come through so much in his life; and has done so much for so many - he cannot end in this pissy, awful way.

Today is the specialist appointment. We fully expect that he'll be in hospital tonight or tomorrow - I'll be disappointed and upset if he's not. He is very unwell and should be, at the very least, drained and then monitored.

Everything changes if this is really bad news. Everything.