January 10

Dad passed out around 8pm tonight. He had a full, exhausting day of appointments at the hospital in preparation for the start of treatment on Monday. My mom trucked him around PAMF today to get all the information necessary to move forward. Dad will undergo six weeks of chemotherapy and radiation Monday – Friday. The chemotherapy for GBM is easier on the system relative to other cancers, and my dad will simply take a chemo pill each day after he undergoes radiation.

On the home / morning front, we had smoother sailings compared to the previous two mornings we’ve had at the house. He, Robbie and I have found our rhythm in the mornings: get him up, take a pee, make some great lattes (dad has a milk frother, something I’ve quickly become reliant on), whip up a great breakfast, and get my dad organized for the day. He’s disoriented in the mornings, so it’s important to move through some sort of routine to get him better acclimated.

Someone from a home support agency came by around 8am today to help out with chores and supporting my dad. While she was incredibly helpful (vacuumed, organized, gave dad a very needed shower, helped with his bm’s, etc.), I felt that she didn’t quite give dad the love and consideration that I would have given him. For example: his button up shirt was mis-buttoned, and he had flakes of lotion in his hair after his shower. You all know my dad, and have probably witnessed a shirt of his mis-buttoned once or twice, but I feel very sensitive about him feeling very taken care of during this difficult time (or maybe it’s that I need to feel that he’s being entirely taken care of and loved). Once I recognized the level of support and care he was receiving, I handled most of the direct care with my dad, and had our support take care of a lot of the household things that haven’t gotten attention.

One I’d like to bring up: we have a bog in our kitchen. Coming from an apartment in Boston without a garbage disposal, it’s so luxurious to use the one we have in our house in CA. I used its services liberally, though our pipes are weak. So now we have an issue. The sink won’t drain, and nobody has the time or energies to take care of this seemingly straightforward issue (ie call a plumber). I’ve come to understand this sink as somewhat of a metaphor for the situation we’re in: murky, not cohesive in texture, with some important parts need attention. Thanks to our dear friends, Lisa, Ash, and Gavin, we’ve located a good plumber who will check out the situation tomorrow.

Highlight of the day was taking my dad around the neighborhood in his wheelchair. He spends so much time cooped up in the house, so a nice jaunt around Lindenwood was a good way for his spirits to lift, and his mind to clear. Mom, Robbie, Miles, and I enjoyed a good dinner this evening.

In terms of an update on my dad: he was exhausted after his meetings, and spent the evening sleeping. He purchased some crazy noise canceling headphones yesterday, so we’re giving that a whirl. The task at hand is to come up with a comfortable routine for him that gives him meaning. He has been having a lot of trouble reading, and I notice that often times he’ll begin to read the paper, but will lose his headspace and forget about what he was working on soon after beginning. I’m hoping that this will change as we move forward, but for now I’m concerned with his current abilities to focus on tasks, and retain information.

All in all, a good day. More tomorrow, when our visitors Jon Z, and Andy, Mike, Kelly, Anna, and Adam pay us a visit. As always, thank you all for the advice, concern, and love.

I send all of that and more back to you now.

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