Waiting…

My dad is in theatre. If the operation goes well, he will end up with a colostomy bag. I think they will find that the reason he has a fistula is that the primary cancer is in the bowel (the previous operation just took out a mass of unexpected secondaries – they weren’t expecting it and couldn’t find the primary and he hasn’t been well enough to undergo more testing.)

 

I think it is about 50/50 whether he survives the operation; he is so weak and has been through so much. He will hate the bag. It will be unlikely that it will ever be removed. Part of me thinks it will be easier if he dies now; the rest of me thinks what an awful, awful person I am for thinking that. 

 

It is raining. If it goes on raining, the snails will come out and I will make myself feel better by decorating them. I am a bit insulated at the moment because of the heavy duty painkillers I am taking, which worked well this morning but which are wearing off now – I feel spacey but the pain is creeping back. But the infection does appear to be receeding and I don’t look quite so much like a chipmunk.

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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