Casino Cancer

So sometimes my father can be...how do I put this? An asshole. Yes. That covers it. Right before Christmas we found out that my father most likely had gall bladder cancer. VERY rare. And being that overall, he is not a particularly healthy specimen, my mother and I, both nurses for quite some time, worried what this meant. Surgery would be very hard on his already stressed heart.

So they began the journey of a 2nd opinion. We have one of the the top 3 cancer centers in America right here in our home town. My father had a biopsy done last Thursday, with results expected today. So my father calls me up to say:

"Well, I have three weeks to live"

"I'm sorry what??" as the blood drains from my whole entire body. Now, part of me assumed he was joking, as I have been raised by this man. And I do not need to say here that I am a complete and total "daddy's girl" and all that nonsense. But it is true.

"yeah, so meet me and mom at Olive Garden for lunch and your mom says to celebrate the good news the two of you are going to the casino tonight."

"you do know dad, that you are such an asshole sometimes"

"yup. A lot of the time. Met us there in 25 minutes"

So my dad does not have cancer, but a very inflamed, infected gall bladder. Antibiotics and close monitoring for now. Excellent news of the day.

At lunch he started to cough. I asked if he was going to be alright, because he told me he had three weeks to live, not that he was gonna die over breadsticks at Olive Garden.

Today happens to also be my mom's 60th birthday and we (read:she) had been planning a casino trip for the last few weeks, calling me every few days to make sure our plans were still solid. She says at lunch " So the good news is that I have off tomorrow, so we can stay later"

"Yeah, not that I might not die of cancer. That she can stay longer at the casino. Wonderful"

Ahh! Theirs is a marriage most people only have nightmares about.