Well... it happened - my dad passed away Thursday morning, right after the two student nurses who came in to clean him up and change his sheets evicted me from his room. It's almost like he was waiting for me to leave. At least he didn't linger in pain for weeks.
His last words were to my mother: he said "the boss" when she asked him if he knew who she was.
The funeral was yesterday.
A couple of you are aware that my father has been undergoing treatment for cancer, specifically lymphoma. Last week, we had to put him back in the hospital for dehydration and disorientation. A CAT scan was ordered because he'd fallen, and something was detected on his brain, so he underwent an MRI and spinal tap. Today the results are in, and they're not good. The growth on his brain is carcinoma, a far more aggressive form of cancer. It would still be treatable if it were more lymphoma, but with carcinoma, there's no point. The only treatment he's getting now is to be made comfortable. The doctors are talking in terms of days, not weeks or months.
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