You all know, I complain about my mother a lot. But really, there's no way out of it. Sometimes, it's like she doesn't even think, damn it.

Two days ago, my mother called to tell me that they'd seen a doctor and been told that they couldn't cure my dad, they could only extend his life with treatments. She could not answer clearly any of my questions as to why he couldn't be cured, all I got out of her was: "well, you know, when the cancer's gotten to the bones...".

My dad got out of the hospital yesterday, and I spoke to him on the phone. I asked him what the doctor had said exactly, and the following conversation ensued:

Dad: What do you mean, what did he say?
Quartz: Well, other than "there's nothing we can do".
Dad: No, he said it couldn't be cured.
Quartz: Okay, well, why are they saying that? Has it spread all over your body?
Dad: It got to the other lung.
Quartz: Okay, I know it got to both your lungs and to your pelvis, but other than that?
Dad: My impression is it's spread more than that, but more tests are needed to confirm that. Anyways, I knew it from the start. And the oncologist told me last week.
Quartz: She told you it couldn't be cured?
Dad: She said they couldn't operate.
Quartz: Wait. So when they say it can't be cured, they mean they can't remove it surgically?
Dad: Yes.
Quartz: So you could have the treatments and enter a remission?
Dad: Well, it's too soon to tell, there has to be more tests.

I could SCREAM, damn it. I spent an ENTIRE FREAKING DAY thinking my dad was going to die right about now, for god's sake!