8 weeks ago I was worried about:
– Getting my new business back on track after some not-so-fabulous things had occurred
– Needing Botox for my newly developed scowl marks
– A bride who wanted a certain image taken that is not really in ‘our style’
– My husband continuing to park his filthy mountain bike in our entryway
…perspective is a bitch.
8 weeks ago my 63-year-old, stubborn, sarcastic, grand-children-spoiling, pain-in-the-ass, dear old dad was diagnosed with metastasized pancreatic cancer.
After weeks and weeks of testing and fighting with healthcare providers..we are all more than a little tired. But the battle is only beginning.
I could get into the physical and emotional impact of cancer on our family…or the statistics….or the stories of others…or the enormous financial burden this is for a retired autoworker on a fixed income. But I think (SADLY) most of you can understand the impact and how little control we have over this with the exception of positive thoughts/prayers and our ability to help where we can.
Those that know me know this: asking for help is not at all a strong suite. (#undertstatementoftheyearaward) I typically subscribe to the ‘I got this’ school of thought. Well..I don’t ‘got this.’
So in addition to positive vibes being requested our way; I have the dubious task of requesting help.
My sisters and I have created a website to try and organize our thoughts and ideas/events that may help our parents out in lessening their financial burden. –We have planned several fundraising events and ask that you take a look and if you can help…please do. And if you cannot–we will gladly accept any ‘positivity’ you can send our way.
…this is not going to be fun. But we refuse to let it completely steal our family’s joy.
Thank you for any support you can offer.
My pops this week with some puppies. (yes..’dog rescuing’ is also genetic)
Ps: Ef. you cancer.