Life is so unpredictable.

I was at work this morning when my sister called and said they thought my dad had a stroke. He was rushed to the hospital and is in the ICU as we speak. I guess I always knew this would happen, but it just kind of stops your breath for a minute when it actually does.

He was diagnosed about nine years ago. At the time, his cancer (myeloma) gave him a life expectancy of about 18 months. Since that time, he has undergone countless rounds of chemo, has had two bone marrow transplants, and has been to the ERs and hospitals around the southeast for various related illnesses. Sadly, he has also witnessed the death of his father, father-in-law, and the unfortunate accident of his wife, which has caused a permanent change in their relationship.

On the other hand, he has seen all of his daughters get married, has known and enjoyed three grandchildren, and has found peace in a slower paced kind of life that has not included dentistry, continuing education, and orthodontia. We all, literally, just returned from a vacation at the beach, one which seemed to be very pleasant for both mom and dad, if not a little stressful for everyone else. He seemed to be in really good spirits and interacted with the kids more than I have ever seen.

So, I'm changing out William's insulin pump tonight. I fill the chamber with insulin, prime the tubing, and get the sterile pads ready. Then, I pull out the old pump site, clean the new area and get ready to stick the needle in his behind. I just had to stop for a minute and realize how unfair this all seems. My son is getting his insulin pump changed out every three days, my dad is unresponsive after a stroke, my mom can't comprehend what is happening and I am about to start a new year of school in a few days, except that I am heading to Arkansas to help make decisions for my parents.

Now, I realize that everyone has their "stuff," but if seems that some people get more "stuff" than others. All of these things that have happened have caused such stress and unhappiness in our lives. Eventually, one has to ask why. I can only say that there has to be a good reason.

My dad is such a good guy. He doesn't deserve this. I'd like to think that I'm a good person too and that the people I love don't deserve these things. William certainly doesn't deserve what he has experienced in his short life.

Maybe I just need to feel sorry for myself for a minute or I need to vent. Maybe I just need to document these feelings so that I remember them when I am old. Whatever my reason for writing right now, there has to be something good that comes from these situations. I don't know what they yet, but there has to be.