Marshmallow

I've had two "Bladder Cancer" tabs open in my browser for a day now.

My dad called me after my mum and sister had gone for lunch. He was even-toned and all matters-appropriately-considered. His blood pressure hasn't been this low in a long time, he said.

"You must like being hospitals then, dad."

"Well, I do. I've always liked my annual military check-up. It's kind of a competition. Not with others, but with my own health. See where I'm doing better, where I'm not doing so well. Although, as a kid growing up in the military, I didn't have good experiences with dentists. So, it's taken a long, long time for me to be able to sit in a dentist chair with more than just my toes and head touching it. This, it's not so bad. Kind of curious. We got to see high definition photos of the bladder. It's kind of neat."

That's my ol' man. I suppose that's where I get my keenness for endurance kink and my competitive streak.

They released him from the hospital this evening (Paris time). He'll go across the street to the hotel, have a meal, change his pee bag and take care of the catheter (for which my sister said she didn't express much interest in learning to help). He's got to drink a ton of liquids because the dye they'll use for tomorrow's CT scan can affect the kidneys if there's not enough fluids in the body. 7am. CT to pinpoint the scope of the cancer.

Dad explained it to me on the phone, but I'd already heard about it from my sister and the Mayo "Bladder Cancer" pages. At this point, it's likely they'll remove his bladder, and probably his prostate, and, if the cancer has spread, the lymph glands in the area. He was all very contained in describing it. We all are in my family - a bit of control freaks. The doctors told him that they could reformulate a bladder using a part of the intestine (which I'd read on the website, too).

We'll find out tomorrow what the state of his insides are.

Tonight, I might go out. I might stay in. There's nothing I can really do. Sure, I could start seriously job hunting for jobs in the Chicago/Minneapolis area - or just back in the mainland. And, I'd move back in an instant for my family. And, I probably will. There's no way I could stay over here with my dad undergoing chemo or another surgery without me being able to talk to him, hug him, smell him, and feel his smile.

But, for now, I can't seem to think about these things. I just feel stuck. Stuck in a kind of marshmallow way. I have an email poised and ready to be sent to the director of our program regarding his incorrect assumption that they have copyright of our film because they funded it. I've stopped the search for ideas for showing and selling the film. I've not written the TV Producer back when he asks to see me again and that he's got comments on the film. I haven't written a word for the upcoming Saturday afternoon "The Other Writers Group" at Shakespeare & Company - was thinking to go with a piece of writing to share and get feedback.

Everything on hold. But still moving along the spaces on the board.