Monday, April 25, 2011

"They Poured Gasoline Down My Stomach"

I talked to my dad last night on the phone. We hadn’t spoken by phone since Wednesday. I was getting email updates about how he was feeling from my dad and from my brother. The day after chemo, he wasn’t feeling all that well. His appetite was barely there and he was just tired all the time. A tough adjustment for a man who likes to do 100 things a day.  The second day after chemo he was miserable. He had lost his appetite completely and compared the feeling in his stomach to what it feels like when someone pours gasoline down your stomach. I told him that most people (fortunately) don’t know what that feels like, including him.  Thankfully, when I talked to him last night, the gasoline in his stomach had turned into a basketball.  This is an improvement (in case you were wondering).  He was watching tennis with my brother and had to get off the phone because Nadal got broken in the second set.
My mom returned to Barcelona last night.  She already misses my dad.  Those two are so cute.  After 36 or so years and all that fidgeting you’d think she’d need a little break. But nope. She misses having him in Barcelona. 
And last but certainly not least, Stacey Keegan (my brother’s wife), deserves some praise. Not only has she graciously welcomed my entire family in her home, fed us, sent us heartwarming emails, and calmed my dad down from time to time, she has also selflessly given my dad a new best friend – her dog, Abbott.  We all love and appreciate you very much.
I probably won’t update the blog again until I am in Atlanta with my dad. I am also assuming that my updates will become less frequent since he is done with the marathon surgeries and doctors visits. Hopefully, he will return back to mostly normal by the weekend. That would make him so happy. 

1 comment:

  1. The story I hear about chemo is, "You have to get sick to get better" - in other words, feeling awful means it's working. Hope that's a true story...