Guts and Pop's Skin

Today through the wonderful world of text-nology,  I received a message via my Android that Dad's test result for lung cancer was negative!  I got the message at work so I held off on being emotional til I got home.  I'm such a cry-baby.

A word about my Dad - he's one of the toughest men I know.  He survived months of radiation and chemo.  All those procedures nearly pounded the life out of him, but no matter how hard the blow, he kept up (or at least sat up!).  It was agonizing watching him through his struggles in 2011.  I mean, this is my father, strongest one in our household, the man that raised me and my siblings, who cooked us meals while Mom was working the graveyard shifts, whose hyena-like laugh makes me laugh, talked our ears off, told us stories about when he was a child in the Philippines.

Classic example of taking our parents for granted.  And I thought he was going to be strong forever.  But to see him, days after radiation and chemo, just sitting there frail and weak, with nothing to say, not able to eat or drink or even swallow.  It broke my heart over and over again when I would visit.  What could I do for him?  I would have given anything to ease even an iota of his pain.  I would have run a marathon 10 times, swam from Oxnard to San Diego without hesitation if that meant he could just be pain free again.

When I did go see him or help take him to see his doctors, I was cheerful, exuded as much positive energy as I could muster and hoped that helped give him some inner strength.  And then when he was asleep or when I got in the car to leave, I let go of all that pent up sadness and became this massively blubbering jelly of a person that I didn't want him (or anyone else, for that matter) to see.  Told you I was a cry-baby.

But that's all water under the bridge now, according to my pops.  He's better, getting better, and on the road to recovery.  Incidentally, on Christmas he had a bit of a headache from trying out wine (of all things).  He ruefully said he definitely can't drink anymore (Yay!  He was such a major drinker before the Cancer Fiasco).  Anyways, he was in a bit of pain from the headache so I gave him some Aleve I had in my bag.  I was extremely satisfied when later his headache went away and he was able to joke around with my Uncles and cousins.  I helped alleviate his pain!  Sure it was a headache, but I got rid of it!  And I didn't have to swim from Oxnard to San Diego!  Score big time.

As far as his skin goes - amazing what happens when you stop smoking and stop drinking.  Suddenly my dad's skin has never (I mean NEVER) looked better than it does now.  His face looks almost youthful.  My sister and I used to laugh about how ashy our dad's skin was.  I never visited my dad's job but I often wondered if he was working at a chalk factory.

So, moral of this blog is don't get cancer and don't drink and don't smoke.  And hydrate as much as you can, moisturize your skin often, and remind yourself that you're better off enjoying life to the fullest because you never know, right?