Good news, good news and worse news.

For one I got the results recorded whilst a camera was shoved down my throat last week and layers of skin were scraped from my esophagus. There doesn’t seem to be any really terrible long-term damage and as long as my medicine keeps me happy I shouldn’t have any worries.

My dad went in and they scanned him and discovered that the tumor in his esophagus was actually getting smaller so the chemo and radiation seems to be working.

Then they told him that the particular cancer in his throat had migrated to a few other places like his femur, ribs and spine. Not exactly the best news.

Realistically they can’t eradicate these new outgrowths but they do give him some chance of surviving with the proper treatment. I guess they just dose you with chemo, the cancer shrinks and then grows and then a few months later you go in to repeat the process.

Needless to say I’m in a funk about this.

You wouldn’t know it, since I don’t really want to bring it up in casual conversation and when I do discuss it my family’s particularly dark brand of humor tends to undercut how much this freaks me out. I keep thinking about how I never met my paternal grandfather and the only memories I have of him are photos and stories. I feel like I’m lacking something because of it and I want my dad to be around to hold my kids in his arms and create living 3-D stories to reflect on.

This sort of thing isn’t supposed to happen to me or my family.