December 23, 2009 – Icy air, slippery streets, and a packed hospital lobby. I couldn’t wait for the elevator, so I took the stairs two at a time. I needed to see him right away.

With sunken eyes, withered skin, and stick-like arms, I barely recognized the figure in the bed. After three months in the hospital and no solid food for weeks, my Dad was a shadow of his former self. How is it possible that we both received a cancer diagnosis within 2 months of each other? He got to skip chemotherapy, but an infection following his surgery almost took his life. I was fresh off my diagnosis and lumpectomy and only days before the start of chemotherapy. We were quite the 2009 Christmas pair. On the morning of December 25th, my family sat on hard, plastic chairs around his hospital bed. A tiny tree with no lights held court in the corner of the hospital room and my Mom had piled a few presents on the squeaky, polished floor. (If you have read my Before It’s Too Late post on February 8, 2011, you might begin to imagine how hard this period was for her.) (more…)