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My Dad
My Dad was diagnosed with cancer yesterday. We don't know much about stage or prognosis yet. My Mom and brother are devastated. Dad is 'sanguine' (his word). I am somewhere between neutral and hopeful...I adore my Dad, in fact adore probably isn't a strong enough word, idolise is probably better. I firmly, 100% believe he'll be fine. I don't know why I believe that, but I do. He's strong, healthy and relatively young. He can cope with treatment. They haven't even found the tumour yet, but they know it's there.
Dad is my rock, my saviour. All the times I was in hospital, he came to visit me at lunch and in the evenings, every day, he quite literally saved my life. He knows me better than I do, and vice versa. I am every ounce his daughter, in looks, personality, everything and I can talk to him about anything. As a result, I have sort of taken over his role as family leader and guide in this journey. I am a student nurse and I've been nursing him since he's been ill. And my family are looking to me now for guidance and leadership. I am happy to do this, as Dad would have done for any of us, and has done, in fact I'm flattered that they look to me at this time. But I haven't been able to process this information, in fact, writing this post is the first time I've cried in this journey.
I don't believe for a second that this will take him from us, but what upsets me is how this has effected Dad's life, he can't work now, his work was his life, he was a highly successful businessman. And now he needs our help, when he was always the one to help us, our extended family, friends, neighbours, colleagues etc. It's like his purpose has been altered.
I don't have any friends, so no one to talk to about this outside our family. Some support would be nice, if possible...thanks.
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