I know you, I've walked with you once upon a dream

...I know you. The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam...

I'm sure Sleeping Beauty had something else in mind when she sang that sweet melody. For my family, it carries a different meaning with a Prince whose gleam is more a permanent glower and whose name does start with "C" but rhymes with "answer" and is always the wrong one.

Dad called today, which is not out of the ordinary. He's leaving on his first vacation sans family this Saturday when he accompanies a geology group from OSU for a 2.5 week stint in Morocco. Just one thing... A few weeks ago, he noticed a few sun spots on his forehead and went in to have them checked. Last year, at around this time, he was the third Lawler to undergo chemo treatment and applied a topical chemo to combat pre-cancer cells on his face. It was a miserable couple of weeks for him as his skin blistered and pealed. In the end, he had to endure TWO rounds of topical chemo due to the pre-cancer cell persistence.

After cooling the breeze with idle chatter, he said the familiar phrase, "I don't want to worry you but I have some bad news." His biopsy results came back and he has cancer.

Yep. That's half of our family now, if we're keeping count. Yayyy for our family health legacy! Needless to say, my sisters and I are feeling the warm and fuzzies for a lifetime of health and happiness. ;) Fortunately, he caught the cancer at "baby cancer stage" rather than "6-12 months to live" stage, so we'll take it! We're not sure why the pre-cancer chemo treatment failed to work but not really surprised (we are Lawlers, after all). If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. (Cancer hasn't caught on that it doesn't apply to him). And, just so we're all paying attention, Dad's due to discuss and start treatment just two weeks prior to the first year anniversary of our Mom's passing. Awesome.

Our Dad is 70 and has had "interesting" medical issues in the past months from his gall bladder to now baby cancer. I think a part of my sisters and I can't help but feel like we've pulled a bit from the shore again with his health and find ourselves swimming among little sharks that nip at the feet but are otherwise harmless --"just be aware". Here's to hoping that great white doesn't rear its ugly head again and take something more.

I told him if there's a cancer to get, I suppose this is it and said I don't think we could take another "you have 6-12 months to live" diagnosis. That statement may just read like a sentence and nothing more, but really, I don't know of three more protective daughters of their dad than my sisters and I...for his own benefit and ours.

We have two loved ones to walk with in dreams; we're not about to lose him too.

~E