Okay, so I'm processing things. It really is a shock to hear scary news and start thinking about mortality but I'm out of morbid mode. I was a wreck pretty much the entire first day my Dad told me. This morning, however, I sat him down before leaving for the airport. "Information comforts me," I said. "So I went out and got this sought-after book written by a Hopkins specialist," and began pointing out certain sections.
"I wasn't going to tell you at first that I got this but I actually feel better after reading it and want you to take a look too."
I also told him my kidneys were his kidneys, when the time comes. "I would never ask for that," he said. "Well, I need YOU more than I need that other kidney I'm not using," I told him back. He laughed and hugged me. We're the same blood type and most similar physically, mentally and emotionally in the family.
It's funny, that I was the accident baby, kindof, coming at a time when my parents weren't sure another kid would be wise. But maybe I will save his life.
Shifting into standard problem-solving mode feels good. We talked more. I don't come from a family that had easy lives. None of us stays down for long. We're doers, and will do what must be done.
(Sent from my phone)