Week #3 Roundup

We ate the eggs. Steph, thanks for your sage input into the matter.

I apologize for the belated weekly roundup, but the weekend was quite hectic. I was also waiting a couple of days to see if we would receive more donations to pump up our numbers, but alas, no such luck. To date, the team has raised $4566.00, which means we are 63% of our way toward our goal of $7500. Stacey is 63% done while Matt is at 0% (:S). If you have yet to donate and would like to, please support one of them.

Because of work/school/volunteering, I don't really get to visit dad that much during the week. If I have time, I go home to play with neglected Wallace and then mom doesn't have to rush home to take him out. Speaking of Wallace, he is another member of the family who has suffered because of cancer.

Wallace is a very intelligent dog. He is more intelligent than a lot of humans, which is also why I prefer his company to a lot of humans (not any of you, gentle readers). Moreover, Wallace used to spend all of his days with dad, and I suspect dad used to talk to him throughout the day, sneak him scraps of his food, play, and occasionally take him out. To go from all of that to nothing? Well, Wallace knows something is wrong, and I think he is acting out. Every time we take Wallace out for a walk, he barks at EVERY PERSON that he sees. It is extremely embarrassing, and it is not a behaviour that he used to perform. Finally after a day of a lot of attention, he stopped the barking, only to resume after an afternoon spent without him at the hospice. Any ideas as to how to stop this? He still goes on his Monday-Friday group walks, so exercise isn't an issue.

Sometimes we bring Wallace to the hospice, and he lies down next to dad until he (Wallace, not dad) gets restless. Dad once said that Wallace was "absolutely the apple of his eye," and still talks to him in the hospice when Wallace starts to whine. When we don't bring him to visit, Daddy often asks for him. Naturally, Wallace is a comforting presence for dad, and rightly so: pets should be involved in any sort of process be it healing or grieving. So you can imagine my COMPLETE HORROR at the following exchange that occurred on Friday evening:

*Wallace, Dana, and Mom walk down the hospice hallways when a kid bursts out of the kitchen and darts across the corridor into another room, startling Wallace*

Wallace: BARK (writer's note: a SINGULAR bark)

*Wallace, Dana, and Mom continue walking along their merry way, passing the kitchen currently housing a short, fat, greasy-looking man eating a slice of pizza*

Short, fat, greasy-looking man: You tell your dog to shut the f--- up...or I will.

WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT? HE SAID WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TO ME? IN A HOSPICE?????

At first I thought it was a joke - he couldn't possibly be serious. But mom edged me on, and the three of us scurried into dad's room. We did the only thing we could do: tell on him to the nurses. His wife is in the room next door to dad, and he stays with her all the time. However, the hospice has showers - there is no excuse for greasiness. Apparently his wife is a sweet woman, but the nurses say that the man is rude, obnoxious, offensive, and ignorant. His brother apologized to us, acknowledging the fact that his brother "is a dick," but it's a shame that the short, fat, greasy-looking man couldn't do it himself. You never hear of mean people with cancer. Maybe it's because they're suffering alone. In any case, I wouldn't wish cancer on anyone, not even short, fat, greasy-looking man. No one deserves it.

Dad is down to 135 lbs. He has trouble swallowing and isn't really eating anything except a couple of spoonfuls of broth every few days. He is very weak, cannot move himself at all, and complains of muscle soreness from lying in bed all day. However, he is drinking a lot, which caused our family doctor to suggest that he's fighting it. This means that there is still a long road left ahead of us. We think he might be waiting for Christmas, which is all well and good, but none of us want to see him become more skeleton-like and have a closed-casket funeral. I want to bring around some decorations to his room, seeing as how we won't be having a Christmas at home, but at the same time, I don't want to encourage him. Mom wants me to talk to him and give him my permission to go, but I don't think I can do that. There are parts of me and Stace that are still holding out for a medical miracle.

Stace is swamped with school this week, so you may not hear from her in a while. As for me, I'm stressed out from these grad school applications. There isn't enough sleep in the day.