Cancer’s Collateral Damage

At this sad time, I am thoroughly thankful for the outpouring of love and support I’ve received from friends, family, friends of family, colleagues, and neighbors.  It’s touching to know that so many people are thinking of us and keeping us in their prayers.

But, I have to admit, it is exhausting to tell the same story over and over and over again each time someone asks, “How’s your dad?”  It’s like reopening a wound each time it starts to scab.

I have begun being vague and simply answering, “Bad.  Really bad,” rather than launching into all the gory details (that I instead share here). 

The truth is, I know they don’t really want to hear the horrific things that are happening to him.  It makes people uncomfortable.  We’ve all been there.  You care.  You want to help.  You want to express concern.  But, nothing you say or do will change anything, and so you suffer through the awkward moment when you’re receiving the answer to the question you’re obligated to ask. 

I’ve decided to spare them all the drama.  “Bad.  Really bad,” seems to suffice.  They still sigh, grimace, or hug me.  They still say they’re sorry to hear about it.  They are truly concerned, and I love them for it.  I love them enough to keep it quick and succinct. 

Because after all, when your father has terminal cancer and is more unconscious than he is coherent, is there any other way to really describe it other than, “Bad.  Really Bad”?