I'd meant to update more, but I find it so hard to talk about any of it, or to talk to anyone.
Cuz, you know, it's my Dad. He lifts stuff. And survives near-pounce tackles from his grown children without falling over.

Except - not any more.
It's really hard to see him like this. Dad was never really sick. He got a cold, sure. He had allergies. But not like this. And it's only been a month since he got the official diagnosis. And he can't get up on his own.

It's not fair. He never did anything to anyone. He's helped more people than I can count.

Yet - here it is. He'll come home from the hospital today. (That's a whole other post. I may make it, I don't know.) He'll have a hospital bed and my aunt is coming to help my mom take care of him. She'll stay until - well. Until.

And this is why I haven't posted. I can't function - and deal with this. Talking about it, thinking about it - I just sit in the chair, angry and in tears. So, maybe I'm a horrible child, a bad person, but I try not to think about it at all.

Anyway.