Mr Showerhead's blog: "???"

I just wanted to basically vent. I need to get this off my chest. Im not looking for "sorry to hear"s or anything like that. A majority of the people I talk to are on here and this is really the only place I can turn at the moment

Growing up my dad lived with us, but was never really around because of work. We saw him everyday, but he would leave for work before we woke up and would come home just before we went to bed. So, we never really got to know him. I was never into sports or anything like that, so watching a game on a weekend with him, isnt something I would do. So, yeah, I guess it was a real "Cats in the cradle" type thing.

Flash forward to last Oct. One day outta the blue on a Sunday, I asked my dad if he wanted to go to the bar for a few beers, he said sure. We went, and he actually apologized about not really being there when we were growing up, I said it was alright, he did what he had to do to keep a roof over our heads and feed us. He said that he was proud of us, and that he's glad none of us wounded up in jail or any major kind of trouble.

Weeks go by, we're spending more and more time together, Im getting to know the man that was my father. How he grew up, and why he says he treated us the way he did.

Last Saturday, he goes to the dr's. And is thrown in the hospital. He doesnt know why, he tells us. (He knew) They run tests and it comes back he's got colon and cancer of the rectum. They said they're gonna go in and cut it out and start chemo as soon as they can. This morning was his surgery, I got there too late and missed seeing him before he went in. I waited around in the waiting room with the rest of the family, and a few hours later my mom says everything will be fine, go to work. Ill call you and let you know how everything went.

Tonight, I find out the nurse or tech or whoever reads the tests, read it wrong. When the dr cut him open he realized they caught it too late. The cancer is full blown, stage 4, all throughout his body. He said that they could start chemo in 3wks, when he heals from the surgery, but he said he really doesnt see him lasting that long. (He didnt say it in those words, but that is what he was getting at, and to be honest, Im glad he told us that way, setting us up for a worst case scenerio rather than to give us false hope with "he'll be fine")

Now here's where Im at. I cant stop thinking the worse, obviously. But what keeps running through my head is, If you would have told me a year ago this was happening, my thoughts would have been "Oh well, things like this happen" I would have faked a few tears for show, and moved on with my life. My family was never one for emotion or closeness. Thinking back, I cant even recall my parents kissing each other in front of us. And now, Im shaking and crying as I type this out. I keep thinking of all the "could of"s and "should of"s. Keep regretting not moving my ass faster this morning so I could have seen him before he went into surgery. So I would have at least seen him one more time, as he was, without all the tubes and wires they might be putting in him tomorrow

And the thing that is making me mad the most, is in the back of my mind, I keep thinking to myself, Why did I ask him to go get those beers? If I wouldnt have asked, we wouldnt have gotten closer and I wouldnt be feeling all torn up about this. I know that sounds so fucking selffish, but I cant stop thinking about it.

And Im starting to hate myself for thinking like that...