November 15, 2004

It is official now: my mother is dying of adenocarcinoma. I am currently staying with my father and have been for over a month, with all that entails ... and I strongly suspect that, at whatever point he chooses to finally see a physician, he too will discover that he has cancer, and that it is terminal. At least, I have been watching those symptoms develop for some months now, and his refusal to see a physician may be as much denial of that as anything. Still, he is very independent-minded (there are other words for it), and would rather meet life and death on his own terms than compromise in even the smallest way.

For now, he is trying to compensate/cope by buying things, for my mother and for himself. It is not an adequate stress/frustration/anger release. I have not yet told him that both what my mother has been diagnosed with and what he has are genetic. (Evolution would actually encourage those genes.)

It was perhaps predictable that all the straightforward discussions with my mother about her condition were through me (my father taking the line of least resistance); and have daily and hourly and sometimes even more frequently to be repeated.

There is no computer at my father's place, but I am going back and forth and so have occasional in-city public computer access in between. I am the only child, and the only local kin. Internet access will continue to be sporadic.

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