Raw Writing for the Real World of Bipolar

My dad lost a 1/3 of his total blood supply through blood in his stool. They put him in the hospital again. The VA doctor put in an order that my dad was to be looked at as a whole instead of just in parts. I can't even count how many times he's been in the hospital this year.

Yesterday they sent a scope down his throat to see where the blood was being lost from. They found a tumor in his stomach. While they were there they took a biopsy to see if it's malignant. It'll take a few days to find out whether or not it's cancerous.

I just hope that the doctors really do a complete diagnosis on him this time. I hope they do biopsies on the rest of his tumors, too, so they can get a whole picture of what's wrong with him. It seems like they just fix a part of him and send him on his way. Dad thinks he's fixed and he goes to work and does things that a sick man shouldn't be doing. Then he just ends up back in the hospital.

Normally I would be freaking out, but I'm doing okay. I'm just waiting to find out what's going on before I freak. Frankly, I think it's probable that it's cancerous. He has five other tumors in his body. They wouldn't be multiplying like that for nothing. I've resigned myself to the fact that my father is really sick and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't make it go away, even if I wanted to, which I do. All I can do is wait.


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© 2009 Cristina Fender