I again won't go into all the gory details but the good doctors (and they have all been very caring and concerned) have not been able to get a conclusive biopsy through relatively non-invasive procedures. However, the two pulmunologists agree that the scans are strongly suggestive of melanoma that has spread. Because of Dad's age, other health concerns, the risks involved, and quality of life issues, they are recommending against a surgical lung biopsy. Finally, he is being referred to an oncologist. We have been told it may take a while to get him an appointment. We take all of this as an indirect way of saying that any treatment should be palliative.

None of us are surprised, but we are now awash in sadness we had been holding at bay. Sadness is part of the parcel of life. There is comfort in accepting that, even though it doesn't make it any less sad.

I don't know if I have already said that Jacqui sent a shawl to Mom, with a note to the effect that it was full of Mudcat kindness. Dad pulls it over his torso anytime he lays back in his recliner for a nap or to try to breathe away pain (not related to the cancer, which, so far, is only causing weight loss and fatique.) What it symbolizes is a bonafide comfort to both him and Mom.

Annie and I tiptoed away Sunday afternoon, while he was sleeping there in his recliner, the shawl wrapped around him like the Mudcat hug it is.   Meaningful solace to an old man and woman, and those of us who love them.

Thank you. We are grateful.