Days With Daddy

So on Tuesday, May 31, we headed to Chapel Hill in the afternoon. We made good time and found the "motel" easy enough.  It was in a fantastic location, but the motel itself was very, very sketchy.  I was uncomfortable from the get-go and that's before we ever even made it to the room.  The people outside of the motel were sketchy; the elevator to our room smelled like vomit and was filthy.  The room on first glance wasn't too bad, until you really start looking.  It was actually pretty dirty.  There was what looked like a blood stain on the wall near the bed.  I wouldn't have been surprised to see roaches or bedbugs.  The floors were dirty such that I wouldn't take my socks off, even to sleep.  The bathroom door scraped on the floor so that it made it hard to open or close.  On the inside of the bathroom, the door looked like someone tried to dig their way out.  There was no hand soap or trash in the entire place.  Lesson ...

  Yesterday I went with Dad to his blood draw.  I checked with him beforehand as I'm trying to respect his wish to be as independent as he can for as long as he can, but he consented as neither of us knew if he would require a blood transfusion or not.  It's always best to have someone with him for those to go get him lunch or whatever and keep him company.  It turned out that he did not need a transfusion.  He was close, though.  UNC's requirement for a transfusion is a hemoglobin of 8 and Dad's was 8.8. While we were waiting for those results, though, Dad got a call from UNC regarding his chemo pill.  We knew that without insurance, it could cost almost $14k per month!!  He'd been told previously that his insurance agreed to cover it but that his copay would be "steep," but we didn't know what exactly that meant.  He was also previously told that UNC was looking into grants to help cover the copay.  Anyway, we got the call from the UNC...

 I suppose I need to go backward to go forward.  First off, I'm a Christian wife and mom.  We lost our daughter 8+ years ago. I'm married to a near saint...he must be.  Even before we married I told my husband about the promise I made to Dad, a promise I'm still fulfilling. In 1990, I was barely 20 years old when we suddenly lost my mom. She was 44 and Dad and Mom had been married for 26 years. I guess they had a good marriage.  I never saw them argue. There was relative peace in the house (besides my brother and I constantly arguing). I know they loved each other. My dad worked, sometimes 4 jobs and Mom stayed at home with us. That's the way they wanted it and I was blessed to know Mom was always there.  It did come at a cost, though; I didn't get much time with my Dad. Thus, I didn't really know my dad, not really.  I have a vivid memory of each morning as a little kid, Dad would leave for work and I was just tall enough to see out the dining room wi...