I just can't concentrate on this paper. We keep having phone conversations with my sisters down in Texas on what's going on with my dad.

I don't feel like going into all the details, but I'll try to summarize as best I can. He's starving to death. He looks like a Holocaust victim, sickly thin and gray. He barely gets any liquid down before he starts spitting it all up, thanks to his tumor in his throat. I don't know why he doesn't have a feeding tube or why he has to be so bullheaded and lie to everyone about what's going on with him, or why he fights and lies to his doctor, but since KJ and Nikki got down there, he has been deteriorating rapidly. He's hallucinating, he can barely stand, let alone walk, and he's angry. Yelling at my sisters, trying to throw stuff at them, refusing to even consider hospice care...I'm sure his doctors discussed these options with him long ago and I'm positive that he scorned their suggestions without pause. The idiot.

He's opted to do a procedure where a wire will be put in his throat to try to stretch his esophagus a bit, making room for food to get down...again, why not a feeding tube??!! It's risky procedure. They may puncture his esophagus and he'll die, they may puncture the tumor, resulting in him bleeding to death, and if it works, it buys him only a few more painful months. if that. It's scheduled for Monday. But since KJ and Nikki got down there on Wednesday, they've seen such deterioration in him that they think he may not last until Monday. Either way, it sounds like he'll be dead within a week.

His parents have offered to pay for his funeral, purchase a plot in Utah, and transport his body up there, which is a MAJOR relief to us. We thought we each would have to hand over a couple thousand dollars for a basic burial in Texas! Uncle Chris has legal power of attorney and has had his name placed on Dad's checking and savings accounts. Dad refused to make a will and never made a living will or assigned medical power of attorney.

It just doesn't seem real. But I saw the picture KJ took of him yesterday. I ended up crying a lot last night, couldn't sleep, then cried all the way to work. But then had a rather marvelous day at work, without getting bogged down, had lots of good energy...and a part of that is owed to the abrupt, irresistible friendliness of a certain person that just kills me since I can't let myself respond to that bright, warm, fatal draw of the heart. It's a combination of security and ANXIETY and serious, serious attraction. The smallest things trigger it and the smallest withdrawal opens up that vast abyss of "of course, it was impossible." Manic depressive, anyone?

I just keep thinking this one thought over and over. Wouldn't it be horribly ironic if my dad died tomorrow? I was born on my dad's birthday, and my dad dies on his father's 85th birthday, Feb 28. The grandfather I always thought as a kid I had a special bond with, for as long as I can remember, until they cut us off after the separation, when I was 15. I was constantly disillusioned as a kid, pre-programmed to never trust in a good thing or in anyone, really. And I'm alone, without friends. I end up saying too much to my co-workers just because I don't have anyone to talk to about this who is outside the situation! And it isn't a good thing to do that at work.

Okay. Feel a little bit better. Back to the paper due at midnight!