Sometimes I'm scared about putting things out in the universe... and sometimes I'm not.

I feel like my life has been crazy for the past 2 years. The whole "flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants" saying... that's how I feel mostly. It all started when I had the urge to move back to AZ. Urge, prompting... call it what you wish. But one day, I woke up and knew I needed to leave NY and move back to AZ. While I tried feverishly to get a job in Phoenix, I couldn't find anything and had to move back in with my parents for several months.
Soon after moving back, my dad lost the majority of his voice. My parents let it go on for a while, but I had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong. Finally, he agreed to go to the doctor to get it checked out. While the doctor said that everything checked out fine, he still suggested further testing. To make a long story short, it was lung cancer. And not just in the lung-- but the lymph nodes, the adrenal gland, and the hip. Surgery-- not an option. Radiation-- not an option.
I wasn't surprised when we found out it was cancer, but I was still shocked at the same time if that makes any sense.
My dad has now had several months of chemo. And it really hasn't work. Now, I'm not a tree-hugger all the time, but despite what the "doctors" said, I don't think chemo was the best way to go. Because now he is weak. He is sick and he is a skeleton. I almost feel like we were lied to so that they could bill his insurance. Anyway, I'm not trying to be all conspiracy-theorist, but I have significant reservations when it comes to pharmaceuticals in general.
They finally had to put a feeding tube in him. Not like a tube that goes down your nose. Like, surgically, put a tube through his stomach so he can have nutritional drinks that will hopefully help him gain weight. He lost 7 pounds this last week. I think it is about a grand total of 80 lbs. He still eats fairly normally albeit smaller portions, and I just don't understand HOW he is losing weight so quickly.
In addition to that... this always seems to be the hardest part for me to talk about... is when we found out that the cancer had spread to his brain in the form of 9 or so tumors. I know what that means. Possible seizures, cognitive impairment, falls, etc. One of my biggest fears is losing the man I know to be charming, quick witted, and fiesty. I'm scared his personality will be gone before his body and he won't know us the same way anymore.
Don't get me wrong. This isn't all about me. I worry about how my sister will respond when he passes, because her ability to handle stress isn't always that great. I worry about how my mom will take care of herself when he is gone because her whole identity seems to be wrapped up in being his caregiver. I become emotional when I think of all the things that my dad will miss... my sister and I getting married (assuming that actually happens). His grandchildren. For a man that loves little children so much, I always looked forward to the days when my children would have a good grandfather.
I also worry about what it will look like when he does die. Will it be a scary experience for him? Or will he be sleeping? At peace? In pain? What will he be doing when it happens? What will I be doing? Will I be by his side and will I know this is the end?
There are just so many questions and not enough answers for me. And for those of you who know me-- I like to have answers! I like predictability and to be informed. Throughout this whole journey, I haven't felt like I've known what is going on, and while I've definitely learned to be more patient at times, that doesn't mean I have to like it.
Anyway, per usual, this post doesn't necessarily have a rhyme or reason. Sometimes, I just need things to be out in the universe so I can sleep at night and get up to take on another day.