I was downstairs shaving, that's my entire head except for mustache and goatee, and I recalled the first time I did it. It was close to this date in 1998. The next morning at work, I was my typical stoic self, and one of the PC guys stopped at my door and flippantly asked, "Going for the Macho Daddy look?"
I looked over at him and swiveled my chair so I was looking him directly in his eyes and very quietly said, "My father has Stage 4 lung cancer. He'll be lucky to see his 65th birthday. The chemo is making his hair fall out. Anything else you care to ask?" I turned back to my Sun and went back to reading the previous night's email.
Until then, I had only seen that color of ashen face on the Dead.
I looked over at him and swiveled my chair so I was looking him directly in his eyes and very quietly said, "My father has Stage 4 lung cancer. He'll be lucky to see his 65th birthday. The chemo is making his hair fall out. Anything else you care to ask?" I turned back to my Sun and went back to reading the previous night's email.
Until then, I had only seen that color of ashen face on the Dead.
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Date: 2011-11-02 09:16 pm (UTC)Dad was at the time undergoing chemotherapy for the lymphoma that killed him a little over a month shy of his 58th birthday.
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Date: 2011-11-03 09:04 pm (UTC)Dad made it five more months, until the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, 2000, Dave and my anniversary.
They gave him 18 months, he lasted 24. The lung cancer had been beaten, but it had spread and crumbled his ribs.
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Date: 2011-12-12 09:46 pm (UTC)Good for you. I'd shave my head but I'd probably scare my husband.