I’ve told you about the cancer, well he started chemo yesterday. He started all the preparation on the 3rd of January, but of course he never asks any questions, and won’t let mum go in to see the doctors with him, so every step of the road is a big surprise, where we don’t find anything out until after it happens. Dad seems fine with this, but mum and I really aren’t.
Dad walked out of the hospital yesterday and tells us his clothes can no longer be washed with ours, and they have to be washed twice. He needs his own laundry hamper, which has to be thrown away at the end of the cycle.
All of that would usually be fine, but our washing machine is broken. It won’t go through the spin cycle and empty, so the water has to be bailed out by hand and the clothes have to be hand wrung. Mum’s been looking for a good second hand top loader for a while, now, but the only ones she’s been able to find are above budget.
The one thing we did know going in was that dad would need to be driven to Hervey Bay hospital for chemo every two weeks for six months, and missing a treatment would mean starting all over again. Some surprise information that dad brought us yesterday is that two days later we have to do the trip again. Every two weeks.
He can’t get any of this done at Maryborough because, according to the government, Hervey Bay is close. NEWS TO ME! When I was sitting in a hot car for half an hour each way, I never realised how very close it was. I’ve never thought of things a half hour away as being close. Maybe that’s very city-princess of me, but when I was sweltering in the car for an hour round trip, I never once thought, “At least it’s nice and close!”.
Again, it wouldn’t be so bad if the air con in the car was working. Mum says it’ll be at least $700 to fix it, so there goes that fantasy. Twice every second week, we’ll just have to deal.
Until this whole cancer thing, my dad was the sole income earner for the household. I’ve been trying to get a job pretty solidly for the last year, and before that I was arguing with Centrelink, trying to make them give me student payments, since I’m, you know, studying. I gave up on the bastards. I’m a delightful sponge, now.
My parents are now being dragged through hell by Centrelink. My dad will probably get paid, but whether mum does depends on how sick dad gets. Whatever dad gets won’t be nearly what he was getting from work, but at least it will be more than the sick pay he’s currently getting from his work.
Meanwhile, I’ve gotten very desperate indeed for work, and have broadened my search to non-childcare jobs, even though it will be very difficult to finish my course if I’m working full time at a non-childcare job, and also broadened from just Maryborough and Hervey Bay jobs to Brisbane and Gold Coast jobs as well, even though a job outside this region would also mean finding a home.
That, of course, brings up several other issues. Not the least of which is if I’m not here, who’ll take care of mum while she takes care of dad?
Also there’s the little issue of needing somewhere to live if I’m in Brisbane or on the Gold Coast. I feel like if I were down there I could get a job like I have other jobs I’ve had- by going in places and actually talking to a human being with thoughts and feelings. Problem is, I’d need to live down there to do that, and to get a rental place, one needs to have a job. Never mind that even when I didn’t have a job, I’ve always, always paid rent and paid it on or ahead of time, if I don’t have a job before I apply, I’m not likely to get a house/flat/room. It’s a continuous loop of suck.
If I had a job, I’d be able to make sure mum could get by no matter what. As it stands, I feel guilty every time I eat food in this house, because I didn’t pay for it.
That’s really as much as I can complain in one go,
I hope I wasn’t too annoying!
Signed with love,
The Pretty Kitty.