So, Father Chili was diagnosed with bladder cancer in June.
The intervening time has been spent running tests and having surgeries to try to get him ready for treatment. It seems, though, that this plan may not be feasible. The surgery this morning (to try to remove tumors from his bladder and install a stent to drain a blocked kidney) was unsuccessful.
The prognosis (filtered through Mother; I wasn’t able to get there in time to see the doctor) is not good. I don’t know whether that means it’s not good for treatment, or not good in general. When I pointed out to her that, when the doctors aren’t harassing him, Dad feels pretty well, she agreed; I used that as an opening to suggest that perhaps they should consider forgoing radiation and chemo (which, if they won’t extend his QUANTITY of life, will CERTAINLY diminish the QUALITY). She agreed, and said they’d talk to the doctor about it tomorrow.
I think that Dad might be preparing for his final decent. I’m keeping a close eye on him for the far-away siblings, and I don’t feel like he’s ready to land just yet, but he’s certainly on approach. His big concern right now is that everyone is “taken care of” after he’s gone; next week, Mr. Chili is going to go over there when Mother is out so he can go over everything Dad wants.
In the words of a dear friend, “if it can’t be good, let it be quick.” He’s not quite ready to go yet, but I hope that, when he does, he gets right down to business. Until then, we’ll love him while we’ve got him.