We all knew it would come eventually but nothing quite prepares you to hear that all treatment options for your Dad have been exhausted and there is nothing left to do. Even though I have thought this is how this would all turn out it still hit me in the gut when I got the phone call last week. The doctor says he has about two months.
Of course, as I tried to tell my Mom, doctor's are frequently wrong and two months doesn't necessarily mean two months. But then I realized that even if he has four months or six months it doesn't really change anything. He is dying and there isn't anything anybody can do about it.
I don't follow the female stereotype of the person who just wants to be a good listener. I will listen but then I will try to help find solutions. I like action. I like plans. I like to find ways to fix or change things. I like suggestions about what can be done next. And now there isn't any of that. We all just have to sit back and let things happen. Let the disease run its course and wait.
I also realize that in spite of what is going on, how truly lucky I am. So many people have lost their parents when they were much younger than I am. I am grateful that I had my parents in my life and that I have had them both for almost 39 years and that I will hopefully have my Mom around for many years to come. I am grateful that, although they can frustrate me to no end sometimes, I have a good relationship with them. I am also grateful that I can be by their sides and help them any way I can. I guess that is doing something.