It was really weird. I normally don't remember my dreams unless my sleep is sporadic and I wake up in the middle of one. And I hardly ever dream of anything that has a very clear message. However last night, I dreamt that my dad died. It's pretty hazy now, but I remember the gist of it.
I talked to mom and dad tonight. Everything's fine, but my dad informs me that he's had two PSA tests done in the past year and both have shown an increase in the value from the previous (not sure what the measurements are, exactly). Now he's getting booked for an appointment with a specialist in Brandon. I told him it's much better getting the tests done and knowing than simply being in denial or ignoring the urgency to get the prostate tests done when you get older or have a family history of problems. At any rate I'm freaking out. I hate reality - and you wonder why I try to escape it so much?
4 comments:
Hang in there. Good that he's seeing a specialist.
What? I'm all about having my prostate caressed by nurses. I mean project managers.
Smell the glove, my man. Smell the glove.
I'd rather know than not know despite the way it's done too. My family has a history of colorectal problems (mostly on my mom's side too, which makes dad's situation more depressing), so I'll be happily getting PSAs starting in a few years, every year until I die - most likely from prostate cancer, I presume.
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