Just sitting here chillin' with dad.

Just sitting here chilling with dad. They have internet access here, so it’s kinda nice. Not to mention soothing for the phobia. The patient in the next bed (Jesse) likes my dad. He calls him Doc. It’s nice to be respected by your peers. One of the (sexy) nurses calls him Papa. It takes a lot of courage and humility for a grown man to have someone help him go to the bathroom, eat, or even just use the phone. I’ve been praying for God to continue to give my dad strength to endure this process, and press on through it. Unless he’s heavily sedated, he can feed himself. And with a little supervision, he can get out of bed, walk to the chair, and watch TV. He’s watching basketball (Detroit versus Orlando) now, but he says the Lakers are much better than these clowns. His motor skills in his face are pretty good, still smiling and whistling at the sexy nurses. (Dinner just arrived, let’s see how this goes). His left hand is very weak. He uses a warm towel and massages his own hand to stimulate the blood flow. His determination to get up and out is phenomenal.

They did a full body scan, and complete blood tests. They found he has very low RBC (red blood cells). They took a bone marrow sample and biopsy. That can be a VERY painful process, but older patients have softer bones. Thankfully for dad, it was not too painful. Preliminary tests show his marrow is not making enough RBC’s and he has low hemoglobin levels. They are doing lab test and the results should be in on Monday.

So many people have called and offered help, and when they ask “what can I do?” I reply “Just pray.” It’s not that I don’t want people to do anything, or that, I somehow feel weird to ask people to do something other than that. The truth is, I VERY much believe in the power of prayers. Ultimately we are all at the mercy of God’s Will. And I know, accept, and appreciate that. But to pray for God to continue to give him physical, mental, and psychological strength to continue fighting, and to pray that by God’s grace his body begins to produce those RBC’s, well… that is such a huge task for one man, or one family to do. That’s why I continue to ask for those prayers.

Checking in with the food… the mash potatoes didn’t stand a chance against him. I can’t find any sign of ‘em. The carrots were a bit under cooked, the tilapia was dry, the soup was too watered down, etc… etc… It’s not that he’s complaining, it’s that he’s such an excellent cook himself, he’s too much of a critic. He even noticed that the mash potatoes have a beef gravy, not as tasty as the turkey gravy he had yesterday.

Bobby was telling Rob about my dad’s situation. Bobby has been a rock by my side and super supportive. I know Bobby well, and I know he’s just that kind of guy. So it never dawned on me that he would have some connection with my dad. In our tender teenage years, Bobby and I spent a lot of time together. He used to come to the house, and (as he should have) made himself right at home. One thing he could ALWAYS rely on, was that there was homemade Persian food in the fridge. His favorite was my dad’s Ghemieh. But he also made Ghormeh Sabzi, Fesenjoon, you name it! Bobby’s parents were back in Iran, and he and his siblings were forced to flee long before they were able to get the parents out. So for so many years, that Bobby didn’t have his father around, he would fill that void by spending time with my father. When Rob told me this, it crushed me. Right under my very nose, my father has done such a noble thing for Bobby, without me ever noticing. I doubt dad even noticed. He’s just THAT kind of guy.

I want to give a play by play of what’s going in here right now, but it’s a bit overwhelming. One nurse came in and asked him if the food is ok. He sent her to get some salt and pepper. Another nurse walks in with a small basket of strawberries, washed. Not quite sure where they came from, yet. But dad offers her one of the strawberries. She takes the bait (what woman can resist his advances?). Jesse (old black man, with a weak heart) is talking some smack, “Doc’s got all the ladies running around for him. I have to take a back seat to this hustler.” The first nurse returns with salt and pepper packs. He didn’t offer this one strawberries (he gives them all a unique kind of love). As she leaves, Jesse reports “she’s single, not married. You got a little game yourself (he’s talking about me), I’m just giving you the scoop.”

They say the apple never falls far from the tree.

I just found out where the strawberries came from. Another one of his lady friends had brought them earlier today. Sheesh! Detroit is winning, dad’s gonna crawl back intobed, and I’m off to Crimson Spot. There’s teaching work to be done.