Being of Two Minds
Today is a day of celebration. Today is the day of our office party and I am on the organizing committee. Me an another really awesome person are in charge of running the game room. Yes there will be Scrabble, but we're IT, there will also be two Wii's, Two XBoxes, and of course a Playstation, all projected up on the walls for the pastime and pleasure of our 140ish officemates.
It is a day of festive clothing, Santa hats, good cheer, good food, and good friends. It is a day of joy and happiness. Display contest starts at 11am, food is served at noon, activities begin at one, clean up and be out between 3 and 4. We have our plan, it will go flawlessly, that is who we are.
Meanwhile, back in October, we buried my Uncle who died of esophageal cancer. OK, not exactly accurate. He didn't die of the cancer, he died of complete 100% all systems down, crash and burn, organ failure. Even his skin failed. They had to wrap the body in plastic so he wouldn't leak out the bottom of the casket.
Esophageal cancer has a 25% survival rate over a five year period. The fact that my Uncle made it ten years just means that he's a Cavenaugh and you can't force a Cavenaugh to do anything they don't want to. He died well past the point most would have thrown in the towel and a lot longer than I would have chosen. If the rest of my days are going to be spent having nutrition pumped into my stomach through a tube in my side, screw it, if I can't eat fried chicken there's nothing left to live for. In the words of my Grandfather, "What you get out of life is what you eat." I might have that put on my tombstone. My last piece of advice for the living.
But I digress. On the day of my uncle's funeral dad casually mentions to me that he has had a sore throat for a couple of weeks, and now that his brother is buried he is going to make an appointment to have it looked at. That was October, and true to his word he had it looked at.
He has Esophageal cancer. Today at 10am they will admit him to the hospital. At 12:15pm they will begin surgery to install his port and feeding tube. They expect the surgery to last an hour. They are not doing surgery on the cancer because it is too close to his lyrnax. Chemo, radiation, and having food paste pumped into his stomach through a tube installed in his side is his future.
I can't remember if I mentioned it during my family reunion entry but sitting there next to him I felt like I was witness to his last meal.
At some point today during the festivities mom is going to call me to give me the thumbs up or thumbs down. Meanwhile I have to keep my Santa hat on and try to look jolly. My parents didn't put me through nine years of college as a theater major for nothing. If I pull this off I hope you will all remember me at Oscar time.
Assuming of course I don't end up with esophageal cancer myself, should this happen, I'd like a lifetime achievement award with one of those highlight reels, and some appropriate music. I think I'd like "Everything Sucks" by Reel Big Fish. It will be the last time you get to hear me complain.
