I went back to the hospital this evening, I just couldn't stand the thought of Dad spending the evening alone. I brought him a CD player and the CD's I'd bought him for Christmas. My sister was there but left shortly after I arrived. I sat with Dad, held his hand and let him talk. He told me how angry he is with God, how angry he is at the doctors who missed the diagnosis for months, he railed at politicians but he also talked about how he'd like to talk to his Cancer doctor to see if there is any experimental procedures he could try. He said "maybe it won't help me but it might help somebody else". I think the Chaplain this afternoon helped by giving him permission to be pissed at God, she told him that sometimes she swears at God. She told him he had a right to be angry at God, he just had the "crap kicked" out of him and he didn't deserve what was happening to him. So, I let him be angry tonight and just held his hand and empathized. Near the end of the visit he said "I really got myself worked up there didn't I?" and I replied "good for you Dad, you need to get it out." And Being Me I told him that he was your newest hero. He grinned and said "that's nice to hear" So, that's my night.
