Which news would you like first -- the good or the bad?

Let's go with the good first. It's always nice to get good news. This morning the results came in regarding my dad's Philadelphia chromosome. Basically, a positive finding indicates that he's particularly resistant to the treatment for the leukemia and survival or cure rates are cut in half from an already low 30% 5-year survival rate. And it's negative! Thank God, some good news can be energizing. I had a ridiculous grin pasted on my face all day. I'm sure that people were confused as to why someone whose dad has just been diagnosed with cancer was so darn happy, but I think it's pretty awesome. I was telling some friends about it and likened it to the following: you get thrown into a coliseum with 70 bulls. You're told that there may be 15 more bulls added to the mix in a week, so get ready. Then, after the week has passed, you're let off the hook with only the original 70 bulls. Sounds like a lot of bulls, except when you compare it to 85 bulls. At least that's how I'm thinking of it.

After my incredibly productive, grin-worthy day, I made my way home to prep for a knit night I was hosting. Nothing big, but I needed to sweep and clean the bathroom. I also made a delicious vegan pumpkin pie. First one I've ever tried. Pretty yummy. And it was good that I had some baked goods on hand because, lest we forget, there was still bad news to be had.

So, my pals and I were sitting in my squishy new furniture, knitting, listening to some Yo La Tengo, just relaxing. I was sitting there thinking how lucky I am, and just kind of soaking in my blessings. When the phone rings. It's my dad. I went in my room to take the call, and it turns out that my grandfather is in the hospital in Memphis with pneumonia and sepsis and is on a respirator and sedatives. And he's not expected to make it through the week, maybe not even through the night.

What the hell? Can't a family get a break? I mean, I'm so grateful for what I have. And I don't mean just material goods, but my relationships with friends and family are amazing. I just know the most incredible people. But, really, is this fair? Sure, he's 85 or 86, and he's been sick on and off for quite a while, but couldn't it all have gone down either before my dad got sick or after he got well enough to fly so he could at least make it to the funeral? And my grandma is just going to be heartbroken. As are their daughters. This is all so much for them to go through.

But, silver lining: pie was at the ready. And I had a room full of friends to walk back into, and 2 wonderful cats to curl up with later. So, I'm thankful.