Learn and live and learn

The minor surgery to close up the last bit of my abdominal wound went well. It didn't take very long and the recovery has been rapid. In two weeks' time I will once again be able to loll in a bubble bath. I cannot tell you how happy this makes me1

It is the one bit of good news from last week.  The same day I was getting my wound revised in one Boston hospital, my dad was getting a PET scan in another. Cancer is suspected. The mass in his neck showed up green on the scan. There were no other large masses, just a few very small green areas that the doctor felt could be arthritis or other inflammation.  He's scheduled for a biopsy this Monday.  I mean, yes, there's a small chance it isn't cancer, but I don't think that chance is anything to pin our hopes on. We are proceeding as though it is.

What are the chances are that 2 people in a family of 4 with no prior serious medical issues get diagnosed with cancer in the space of 7 months? I don't know and I don't want to know. It's already unbelievable enough. And when I think of it (I try not to, that is what Candy Crush is for, right? but obviously it's impossible not to), I can't even. I don't know how to process this.

My sister and I talked about it on our way to our cousin's wake yesterday. And then we went into the wake. And there was our cousin D., in thousands of images flashing across tv monitors, laughing and smiling and enjoying time with family and friends, times at Grateful Dead concerts and at the lake where he loved to fish. D. across his 59 years, at weddings and parties and graduations, in living rooms and backyards and music venues, with people and by himself. In my favorite one, he's driving a boat with a cigar in his mouth and the most magical smile across his face. Pure joy.

It does seem now that Death is announcing its presence in some very serious ways in my life. My instinct is to jump into my beloved green MINI and drive, and keep driving. Or to hide out for all eternity in a dark closet under a pile of cozy sweaters---  but.  I want to learn something from it.

I know that this not only sounds pretentious, it's also utterly unrealistic--- because you know, it's Death. Death obviously teaches you the fact of its existence, that it's coming to you (for you?) eventually, whether you fear it or face it head on, or linger under the illusion that you can control it.

What else is there to learn from it, right? I don't know. But I need there to be something more. I guess I'll find out.