Page 41 of Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
‘Well, tell me, Dad.’ I stare at him in alarm. ‘What’swrong?’
He sighs. Then he says in a rush, ‘The thing is, love, I’vebeen... well, I’ve been coughing up blood, but I didn’t wantto worry you until I knew what it was.’
‘Hang on.What?Coughing up blood?’
‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’ He presses my arm. ‘This is why Ididn’t want to tell you.’
‘So tell me now, Dad! What is it? Why is it happening?’
He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I guess I might find outtomorrow.’
‘Right.’ My heart is slamming against my ribs. Coughing upblood can’t be good in any circumstances. ‘How long has this been going on?’
He runs a weary hand over his face and sits down at the kitchentable, and I subside into the chair opposite.
‘A month or two,’ he admits. ‘The first time it happened, itwas quite a shock seeing the blood in the sink. I made an appointment to seethe doctor, but then you had your accident and I cancelled it. And because itdidn’t happen again for quite a while, I hoped it was a one-off.’
I swallow. ‘But it did happen again.’
He nods. ‘A few times recently.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me, Dad?’
‘I didn’t want to worry you. Linda only knew because shecaught me smoking.’
‘Lindaknew?’ A dim memory of coming home from thewriting competition awards and finding Linda and Dad at the back door slipsinto my mind. I remember thinking how odd that Dad should be smoking after allthis time.
He shrugs. ‘It was the day after I saw blood in the sink forthe first time and Linda could tell something was wrong. She kind of forced itout of me.’
‘What do you think it is? Are you in pain at all?’ Anxietyis clutching at my insides and it must show in my face because Dad gets up andputs his arm around me.
‘I feel fine, Martha. Honestly. And there’s no point inworrying unnecessarily. Let’s just wait and see what the doctor has to say, eh?’He smiles. ‘Now, tea?’
‘It might be nothing,’ I say, watching him fill the kettle.
He nods. ‘Just a throat irritation or something.’
‘Absolutely.’
I dredge up a bright smile, wondering how on earth I’m goingto sleep tonight, thinking about what the doctor will say...
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I’m so worried about Dad.
After talking to his GP, he was immediately booked in for ascan, and after waiting a nerve-racking few days, we got the results yesterday.They’re worrying, to say the least.
The scan picked up a dark mass in Dad’s left kidney, and nowhe’ll be going into hospital for further tests to determine what’s going on.It’s not looking good. But until we know exactly what we’re looking at, we’reboth trying to remain as upbeat as we can.
But it’s really hard.
And Dad, for all his brave smiles, looks as if he’s aged adecade over the past few days.
This morning, over breakfast, he’s still trying to play itdown and I know it’s mostly for my sake. ‘I’ve got a robust constitution on myside,’ he says, patting his stomach.
‘That’s true. And a positive attitude is everything, andyou’ve got that in spades.’ I shake my head. ‘If anyone should live to a ripeold age, it’s you, Dad. You had that car accident when you were a teenager butyou’ve been fine ever since then.’
He nods. ‘Apart from losing my spleen in the accident, I’venever had a day’s ill health in my life. Except for the usual colds and flu.’.’
