Waiting for the prognosis...

My dad's bronchoscopy showed a large mass that the pulmonologist said was cancer. He showed me the images on the computer screen. The photographic image looks exactly like a photo I saw in a medical text book in college showing a lung with a malignancy. Knowing it's your dad's... I don't know how to explain it. It seems surreal. And talking to the doctor, I almost felt like I wasn't there as I asked questions with a detachment--like it wasn't me asking the question. It was after he walked away that I allowed it to sink in. But I know none of this has hit me the way it will in the coming months. I have periods when I cry, then they pass. My dreams have been disjointed, so that when I wake up, I don't really feel like I've rested.

I'm trying to stay busy. My day job is helping in that regard. But I need to do my own writing. I'm sitting here listening to Elvis's "Ultimate Gospel." I try to draw comfort from little things like this.

Tomorrow is the visit to Phyllis's doctor appointment. We'll see how that goes. Just spoke with my dad. I've been dreading picking up the phone when I see it's my parents' number. His doctor's office called while they were out. He has to go through another procedure. The doctor must not have gotten all the way to the mass. He had told me if they didn't, they'd have to go through the chest wall. That will probably be next week.

On a totally different note, it's been crazy here in Indy with the Super Bowl and it got crazier with the out-of-towners arriving today. It's cool, though. Phyllis is working at the City County Building's observatory deck tonight, running the elevator until ten. She said Lucas Oil Stadium looks fantastic with spotlights and a huge Super Bowl XLVI sign out front.

Okay... time for dinner. Thank you, Elvis, for these songs.