An entry in which I might not take a breath, or use punctuation or even make any sense.

Right in the middle of this picture you will see my dad, he's sitting next to my mum which is pretty much the only place he has ever wanted to be. HE is surrounded by most of his children, children in law and grandchildren, even a great grandchld there too. I, typically, am taking this picture.
He is a complex man who is exasperating, loyal, loving, has such integrity it is almost breathtaking. He is poorly. Really poorly and we won't quite know just how sick he is until tomorrow.
He is a typical man in that he soldiers on when ill, makes sure those around him understand and appreciate he is ill but is reluctant to actually do anything about it or when forced to act on it, refuses to then follow medical advice!
For a few weeks he has been sick and has seemed to be stricken with one ailment after another, the stomach flu, check. the big flu but not bird flu, check. cough and sinus trouble, check. More stomach trouble, check. Sciatica, check, pain and more pain and general feelings of crappiness and inability to just feel bloody well better, check.
Yesterday, he was forced by an increasingly worried mum to go back to the doctor and tell her that he feels bad, he has to sit and recover his breath after going to the toilet, he has paid a workman to finish the loft work....ALARM BELLS PEOPLE!!!!! He does everything himself, as much at 70 as he did at 30, takes longer and he grunts a lot but darn if he'll pay anyone for something he can do himself......but he did, hmmmmmmm.
So, the doctor examined him and said that his liver is very enlarged and it was pushing on his lungs...take some blood and send off as an emergency. This morning I had a call to say that an ambulance was on it's way because he was so bad he couldn't stand it, the pain was now excrutiating and he could barely catch his breath.
He is now in hospital and so far we know that his liver is blocked, the toxins are not going where they should and are being pumped through his kidneys and through his body, he is very sick and he will have more tests first thing tomorrow. I know this isn't good. We need to know why it is blocked.
I feel as small as I can possible feel this evening, I have spent the day being with my mum at the hospital and watching, in a vacuum sort of outside way, the relationship between two people who have never been smoochy, my dad doesn't do smoochy, he doesn't hug, when hugged he stands a bit stiff and has to be reminded that he has two arms that are capable of squeezing right back.....mutter mutter, squeeze. There, that didn't hurt.
He will write " I love Peg" in steam on a window, he will buy fish and chips with his last £2 and give them to mum, he will give the shirt off his back to a man he should despise, he will drive hundreds of miles to help out his brother who treats him like crap, but it hurts him to hug or kiss. Darn nana. His childhood was devoid of physical and emotional smoochiness and so he isn't quite sure how to do that but we show him and he likes it......we know he does.
So, I watched the man who has always been in charge, who knows all the important stuff and finds out the things he doesn't know so he can tell us, be afraid today, I watched him let mum hold his hand and I listened as he blustered about cancer and how he will be home tomorrow and he's probably got an infection hasn't he? I heard him ask what time we will be in tomorrow and say that he will probably come home with us won't he?
I couldn't kiss him when I left because he would have known that I was afraid too, he might have guessed that I think he is sick and so I patted him, which is an OK thing to do, he can do patting. I told him that damn, trust me to pay him back that £150 this week when he isn't able to spend it , I'd have had fun with that, does he want me to look after his wallet when he is in hospital? I bought him a yoghurt and some rich tea biscuits because I couldn't kiss him or fling myself onto his chest like I used to when I was 6. I bagged the chest spot every night when he got home from work and would gulp in the smell of him. I would lie on the floor and howl when he went to work when I was 3 because it just seemed such a bloody long time 'til he would be home. I did things with him that my siblings didn't because somehow he was mine more than he was theirs and I knew he would need to go on bike rides.
I stayed a virgin until I got married because he wept when my 2 sisters got pregnant before they were married and my brother's girlfriend did too. Don't think I wasn't tempted to do otherwise but when it came close I would imagine how sad he would be if I let him down. So I waited....even if he would never know.
I somehow felt the tables were turned today when I watched him howl in pain and yelp like a wounded puppy as he was examined, I felt I was the grown up and would do anything to take his place. I'm quite good with pain, I am brave, maybe it wouldn't hurt me that much?
I am completely helpless in this case and the things I CAN do are so insignificant they make me want to scream. I did get to talk to the nurse in charge and tell her that tomorrow, when he has his scan, under no circumstances is anyone to tell him any results until we are there. He is afraid, and no-one, when they are that afraid should ever feel alone when it matters, so we will be there and whatever we hear, I will be the strong one and I will somehow take his pain...and I'll kiss him, whether he likes it or not.