Time flies when you dread tomorrow....

I wish I could freeze time.  Then Thursday would never come, it would just be Tuesday forever.

Why is it that time drags when you are waiting for something good, like the end of the work day, the weekend, or a vacation and then time flies when there is something awful in wings, like an exam, a root canal, and when your dad has to has to have his bladder removed.  

Things I've been thinking about the last few weeks when I haven't been able to sleep at night:

- Running away with my dad, changing our names and hiding out somewhere in South America where Cancer can't find us.  Like witness protection.  Sending word to my mom and Dave when the coast is clear and my dad is safe.

- Wishing Cancer was a person so I could kick the shit out of him.  I only say him because I don't think I could kick the shit out of a woman.  It would probably be easier, but it just seems rude somehow.  Having never kicked the shit out of anyone before, I'd probably have to train.  I think I'd ask Georges St. Pierre to train me.  I know he's busy doing his own man-grappling training, but I think if I told him I wanted to beat up Cancer he'd probably help me.

- Making mental lists of people who deserve to have cancer more than my dad.  Murderers, rapists, pedophiles, Kim Jong Il.  I know, I get it, life is not fair.

- Logan from Veronica Mars.

Thank you for all your messages, phones calls and emails.   Your words of encouragement and support have come at a time when I have felt more afraid, sad and desperate than I ever have.  

If you pray, please pray for my dad.

If you hope, please keep your fingers crossed.

If you speak, say Fuck you Cancer once out loud preferably where someone else can hear you.  That's for me.  I like swearing and I hate Cancer.  Trust me, it will make me feel better.

Okay.  See you on the other side.

Fuck You Cancer

Dear Cancer,

I'd like to start off by saying fuck you.  This isn't an episode of Glee, so yeah, call me Cee Lo and FUCK YOU.  Thanks for ruining my Christmas and actually my whole year now that I think of it.  You've wrecked a lot of peoples lives, many of our friends and family have been affected by you, and now you're picking on my dad.

Dude, my dad is 77 years old.  And in a few weeks, right after his 78th birthday, he has to have his bladder removed because of you.  He never smoked, drank or did anything but work, fish and hike on the weekends.  I'm not saying anyone deserves to have you in their lives, but really?  My dad?  All he ever wanted was to live out his last days, growing vegetables in his backyard, reading the paper and watching those Korean soap opera dramas all day long in the winter.

Now all he does is worry about the surgery and worry about how he will be a burden to my mom and his family during his recovery.  And life after the surgery with the bag.  My mother and I can't sleep at night worrying about the pain following the surgery and the weeks and weeks after.  And I can't help thinking at his age the surgery will be too much.

I see a smoker on the street and I want to punch him in the face.  You know that smoking causes cancer, don't you?  Why should my dad have cancer and not you?  Go enjoy your god damn health! is what I want to scream in his face.  I'm not saying it's logical or its the random smoker's fault, or that I think smokers should get cancer.  I don't think any of those things.  I'm just saying I want to punch him in the face.  Really hard.  Like maybe more than once.

I see people racing around buying all sorts of stupid gifts, and I want to yell, who cares?  No one wants that stupid scarf or that stupid basket full of smelly crap, or anything else that you're buying.  Well, except for maybe the people shopping in LuluLemon or the Apple store.  Everyone wants that stuff.  My point is, Christmas is pissing me right off this year with its stupid songs and people eating too much junk and buying too much junk, and being all festive when my dad is sick.

Cancer, you have turned me in to a stark raving crazy bitter bitch.

But guess what.

I'm not going to be crazy forever.  It's going to suck  but my dad is going to have this surgery and we're going to get through the recovery.  My mom used to be a nurse, did you know that Cancer?  She's going help fix up my dad after the surgery--she is like post surgery Cancer Kryptonite.  And my dad's going to get used to the bag and he's going to do all the things he loves doing once he's all healed up.  And I'm going to see my parents happy and free of YOU and I'm not going to be bitter any more.  And I'm going to sleep through the night again one of these days.   And I'm not going to have the urge to punch random people on the street.  And next Christmas, maybe I'll feel like singing a few carols and eating a mountain of cookies and chocolates.  I'll be the best bitch in town.

SO FUCK YOU CANCER.

IT'S ON.

Regards,
Sue Jean