I’ve got pneumonia and strep. Well, the strep is probably gone from my system by now, but the cough is hanging on, as is the rattle when I talk or breathe. I’ve been whiny because my brother is here and I’m trying to be all festive and hospitable when all I want to do is curl on the couch.
My father is experiencing the first scary strains of the cancer symphony. He’s had some minor surgical procedures as he rests and recovers and gears up for the worst. I’m sad I’m not closer, to somehow help him through the ugliness. To squeeze his hand and then wait in the assorted rooms with my mother as he’s wheeled away.