Frangible
A couple of weeks ago, I made the mistake of telling a co-worker that my dad most likely had the lung cancer.
Her: Ooo girl, my brother in law had that and also that lady Jane that used to work around the corner.
Me: How is your brother in law?
Her: Oh, he dead.
Me: OMG and Jane?
Her: Oh girl, she dead too.
Awesome. I guessed my dad be dead too soon so I looked up survival rates on the Internet. Not good. My work husband (a 70+ British man) came by my office and cheerily asked how my father was doing. He did not know what he was in for. I immediately broke down in tears. Not the cute kind of tears that I could look up at the ceiling and wipe away with my middle fingers so that my eyeliner wouldn’t run. They were full on donkey tears the size of William Shatner’s ego – the kind of crying that pulled my face apart like that one time I rode the Gravitron at the fair and threw up mozzarella sticks and red Kool-Aid. The kind of crying that made me take involuntary breaths in the middle of words and I sputtered out “My Dad is not going to walk me down the aisle and that is not fair!” and my work husband sat down across from me and put his head down and he cried with me and then he took me to lunch and filled my belly with raw oysters and said to me, “Your father must be an [insert Britishy word that means awesome] man to raise such a lovely daughter as yourself.” And I was all duh, have you seen my ass?
But the good news is I get to keep my dad for awhile longer for the mass is not cancer. Beautiful, beautiful tumor that resembles an enlarged skinless testicle hanging from my dad’s right bronchus swaying in the breeze of his lovely smoke-free breath. He is having it removed next week via Bronchoscopy.
I just learned that my friend, Matthew, lost his best friend to cancer yesterday. She was 27. Cancer sucks. I learned from this whole thing that you never know when you are going to lose someone you dearly love so make sure you let them know that you love them and that they really mean a lot and, if anything should happen, you have dibs on their CD collection.
Her: Ooo girl, my brother in law had that and also that lady Jane that used to work around the corner.
Me: How is your brother in law?
Her: Oh, he dead.
Me: OMG and Jane?
Her: Oh girl, she dead too.
Awesome. I guessed my dad be dead too soon so I looked up survival rates on the Internet. Not good. My work husband (a 70+ British man) came by my office and cheerily asked how my father was doing. He did not know what he was in for. I immediately broke down in tears. Not the cute kind of tears that I could look up at the ceiling and wipe away with my middle fingers so that my eyeliner wouldn’t run. They were full on donkey tears the size of William Shatner’s ego – the kind of crying that pulled my face apart like that one time I rode the Gravitron at the fair and threw up mozzarella sticks and red Kool-Aid. The kind of crying that made me take involuntary breaths in the middle of words and I sputtered out “My Dad is not going to walk me down the aisle and that is not fair!” and my work husband sat down across from me and put his head down and he cried with me and then he took me to lunch and filled my belly with raw oysters and said to me, “Your father must be an [insert Britishy word that means awesome] man to raise such a lovely daughter as yourself.” And I was all duh, have you seen my ass?
But the good news is I get to keep my dad for awhile longer for the mass is not cancer. Beautiful, beautiful tumor that resembles an enlarged skinless testicle hanging from my dad’s right bronchus swaying in the breeze of his lovely smoke-free breath. He is having it removed next week via Bronchoscopy.
I just learned that my friend, Matthew, lost his best friend to cancer yesterday. She was 27. Cancer sucks. I learned from this whole thing that you never know when you are going to lose someone you dearly love so make sure you let them know that you love them and that they really mean a lot and, if anything should happen, you have dibs on their CD collection.
posted by Crystal at 10:12 AM
13 Comments:
I am glad that they are able to remove the tumor from your dad's lung. It is really hard to go through the drama of this stuff. It's sad about the girl losing her life to cancer.
Anyway, I finished my radiation therapy today. My doctor officially declared me in remission. I've been crying donkey tears of joy.
I am so happy that he doesn't have cancer! I can't imagine going through all of that with your dad. What a relief! Raw oysters always help donkey tears too.
The Grunt- OMG! That is the best news I've heard all day. While we are complete strangers- I will cry donkey tears of joy with you!
"...an enlarged skinless testicle hanging from my dad’s right bronchus swaying in the breeze of his lovely smoke-free breath."
And now we know where he got what it took to create a beautiful woman with an ass like yours.
I'm happy for you girl. And your dad. But I have dibs on an Mellencamp in his collection, k? ;-)
I'm so glad its all going to be OK!
thanks for the reminder of saying "thank you" to loved ones and I'm SO glad things are looking up!!! Yay!
Cancer is horrible and I hardly know anyone who hasn't been touched by it in some way....
No one would want dibs on my CD collection, they're all scratched. But I have thought long and hard about who I would bequeath the "fun box" under my bed to.
I was in tears with you for awhile. I am so happy that you daddy is OK! What a great relief it must be for you and your family. My grandmother had breast cancer a few years ago, and our whole family rallied together for her. She is now cancer free and doing so much better.
Lung Cancer is super scary. I'm and so so so so happy that you don't have to go through it.
That's what my mom had.
Was it spiffing? "A spiffing chap".
Or "a top bloke". Depends how posh he is, I suppose.
I lost my grandpa to cancer and two of my aunts had (but fortunately survived) breast cancer, so I know how cancer can suck hardcore.
One of these days I'm going to have to write a will for all my valuable stuff, because I don't want my CDs falling into the wrong hands if something should suddenly happen to me :)
Daddy's are so important. Glad to hear he's with you for a long time to come. Just a reminder to tell everyone you love them. Never know what's around tomorrow's corner.
Crystal, you've been tagged.
I am very glad for the removal of the testicle-shaped tumor. Much love.
Glad to hear he's going to be alright. We definitely do forget how fragile life is.
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