It's bad now.
Everyday someone asks..."So...how's your dad?", and I have to pause and say, "He's not good, he's not good at all". Even though I said that yesterday, and the day before that and the day before that...today...he's worse. Each day unfolds some new, bad. Every day is hell in it's own way. There is no word for this disease...this parasitic fungi...this appetite stealing, body wasting, sonofabitch cancer.