When I heard that my dad had cancer a little over a month ago I decided to take his lead in dealing with his illness. After my grandpa and his business partner both fought cancer he said he would never ever go through the "treatment" of cancer as it was worse than the disease. (I guess it has to be to win over the disease). Waiting for him to come home from New Orleans I prepared myself for hearing that he was going to do nothing. I was prepared to accept this but was glad when I didn't have to. He has spent the last month turning his life over to the treatment. Daily appointments, a healthy kidney-friendly diet, a whole new vocabulary, and dozens of pill bottles have quickly become the norm. I am still taking his lead; it is the position where I feel most comfortable. He is hopeful. He is loving. He is reflective. He has taken this period to surround himself once again with the legions of people who love him, to deepen his relationship with his wife, and to develop new relationships with the caretakers who now shape his day to day. One of the bits of information that I heard in the last few weeks really defined my understanding. Multiple Myeloma (do you capitalize diseases?) is not curable like other cancers as it is in the blood. It is a disease that you manage. Hearing this I realized he is going to be sick the rest of his life and this is going to be what he dies of. This is the rest of his life. Sometimes I say this and tears surface instantly along with an ache for the loss I anticipate. Other times it seems just a fact that I am reporting. There is a part of me that wants to know how long and how precisely will it kill him but this would not be following his lead. He seems to want to be hopeful, to be positive, to focus on the here and now. I am successful at this most of the time.