If it's one thing I never want to experience again, it's to see my dad cry. My dad never cries. I mean it ... never. Yet, yesterday when he hugged me I heard him sob and all I could think was "oh SHIT!". It's not that he doesn't have good reason to cry and it's not that I was embarrassed or anything it's just ... it's not something you want to see your ex-air force dad do. He was diagnosed with cancer in the kidneys last week and they went to see the Urologist yesterday who confirmed there are about 3 tumors in and around the kidney but they don't know if they are malignant, yet.
You would think after hearing the word 'cancer' coming out of my mum's mouth as she told me I would have marched to my room, gotten the pack of cigarettes and mushed them into ... well, mush and quit forever. Well, no. I still can't bring myself to quit for some reason. Maybe when it's me sitting in front of the Urologist hearing that I have a cluster of cancer eating away at my kidneys, I'll consider chucking away the smokes. Why can't I fucking quit??
I bought Unbearable Lightness by Portia De Rossi the other day. Reading it made me realise how much I was restricting my calories a few years ago when I lost all that weight. I mean, I was never anorexic but I do understand her when she talks about dieting and food consuming her every thought. I was always too lazy & forgetful to track my calorie intake (I still am) but when I do start to feel like I want to lose weight again, I don't want it to turn into the obsession it was back then. The scale determined my mood for the day: if I'd lost I was happy and nothing could bring me down. If I put on, the world had ended and I hated everyone. I weighed myself everyday so you can see how some people may have thought I was slightly schitzo. I also bought a low G.I diet book. I thought if I start eating low G.I foods, it might make me stop feeling so hungry during the day at work. The hunger pains are starting to piss me off and at 4.00 pm you can always hear this strange gurgling sound - my stomach rumbling. You see, I'm so lazy that sometimes I can't get off my fat arse to make my lunch the night before (or I forget to), so I have to make do with chucking a soup sachet & chocolate milk drink into my lunchbox and believe me, a fulfilling lunch does not a Continental Cup-A-Soup make. And if there are no clean mugs in the kitchen - there goes my soup even. I really need to start making better lunches. Maybe this low G.I thing will be a kick-start. Maybe I should start reading it. I also bought Dead In the Family so it's not all about weight loss.
I pray the cancer has not spread and my dad will be OK.
7:56 p.m. - 2011-01-28
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