So my father is dying.
The cancer started silently in his pancreas, never letting on that it was growing and spreading rapidly, and is now in parts of his liver, his lungs, and his pelvic wall. We see the oncologist on Monday, but he already knows it's only going to be a matter of weeks.
I'm at their house for the weekend, and discovered that something is very wonky with the guest bathroom toilet. Dad took a look at it and determined that it was beyond his knowledge to fix. They called their plumber, a former schoolteacher who had a stroke and couldn't teach anymore and who is, quite literally, the Nicest Guy In The World(TM), to come take a look at it. He arrived this morning while I was still asleep, but I woke when I heard him and my dad climbing the stairs, the two of them chatting up a storm. The Nicest Guy In The World(TM) takes a look at it and then heads back out to his truck for some parts. On his return, I hear him saying, "Oh hey, Richard, I know you have all those tools and spare parts downstairs, and I came across this (what "this" is I have no idea since I was in bed behind a closed door and never saw "it") and immediately thought of you and I think you should take it." My dad's response?
"Oh man, I'd love to have one of those, but, uh... well I have an oncologists appointment on Monday, and I don't think I'm going to be around long enough to appreciate this."
And that was how the Nicest Guy In The World(TM) learned about how my dad is going to die.
FML.
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