waiting.

The last time my dad had cancer, I was in 3rd grade. I don't remember much, other than my parents going to a place called UCLA every other week for check-ups, laser treatments, and other appointments. (which I thought was weird, because as far as I knew, UCLA was a football team, or a school. So I imagined him taking trips to the football field a lot) The one part I do remember, is being in class, around 3:30, and my teacher nudging me telling me I had a visitor and pointing to the window. I looked over and saw my dad peeking through the window of our classroom making a funny face. I was so excited because him & my mom were there to pick me up....early! He had actually just got back from his last visit to UCLA to remove the tumor from his bladder....I know that now, but back then, I was just excited to get out of school early and hang out with my dad because that meant we would go to 7-11 and get a Slurpee.

After he was in the clear, he would go back every other month for check ups, to make sure there weren't any new tumors. Soon it was 6 months, then 9, then 12, then 24, and he's never had to go back since, so its now become a distant memory.

So as I sit here trying to grasp what has just happened to our family, is it fair to ask "why"? He's already beaten this once, why does he get it again? Why us? Why not someone else this time?

This time, its in his throat at the base of his tongue. After a week of coughing up blood because something scratched his throat, they found it. A little, white, lump thing the size of a pencil eraser, that holds the fate of the rest of his life.

So for now, we wait. Wait for more tests, wait for results, and wait for answers.