Fuh real?

So, remember how this blog used to be (sometimes) funny (or at least aiming for that) and then last year we found out my mom had cancer and then all of sudden this turned into an account of her illness and then she died and I couldn't do this anymore and when I did finally come back I was inconsistent with posting and told you that I really didn't know the direction that this blog was going to go because I really didn't know what direction life was heading in?

Well, I certainly didn't expect to be doing any U-turns.

A new situation has arisen and the storyline rivals the most contrived of Lifetime movies.

Ten days ago, out of nowhere, my dad had a seizure.

Then an MRI showed that he had a tumor the size of a cell phone in his brain.

Then he had brain surgery.

Then he had complications from brain surgery which left him unable to speak.

Now he is at a rehab hospital in Boston hoping to reacquire verbal and language skills that will take two weeks to a year (from what I've heard from thee of the vague timeline) to return completely.

We're still waiting on the pathology report to get the story on the tumor though either chemotherapy or radiation will be the likely course of action.

All this in 10 days.

Less than four months after losing my mom.

To quote one of my sisters, "We've been leveled."

It's a situation that has not yet totally sunken in, so organizing my thoughts into neat paragraphs is not even an option. I just figured I would throw an update up to explain what may or may not be a Spew disappearance. The possibility exists that as things settle and we know what we are dealing with, keeping things up here will be manageable. But the idea of documenting another parent's illness (in addition to witnessing it...again) seems too daunting a task right now for this tired, broken body.

I'm not trying to dangle any carrots here, I just don't know what will be. Earth has gone and flipped on its axis (again) in the last 10 days so there's no knowing what the next 10 (the next five...) will bring.

This is the shit drug habits are born from, that's all I'm saying. So, whether I can keep up with this blog is an unknown.

For now I'll say that in ER/House terms my dad seems "stable." He is there mentally and can understand all that is happening but is working to learn how to "turn on his voice," and also express spontaneous thought according to the docs and speech therapists we've seen. That's the post-surgery story. We're still in the dark about the brain tumor. Brain tumor...fuck.

The Oscars are on tonight. Without Meryl Streep in the race, my heart is only half in it. (Also, the whole tumor thing.) Still, I'll tune in. It could provide a little distraction or even a shred of comfort. How could I possibly feel any connection right now to an orgy of back-patting Hollywood elite? Pretty easily. Sandra Bullock had a shit year, too.