Well, my father made it through surgery with flagellating colors.

The tumor did indeed turn out to be cancerous, but they caught it at a very.... we'll call it "innocent" stage, where it still hadn't spread. It was a Level 2 Papilloma (I don't even know if that's spelled right, let alone it being the right word), and they were able to save the kidney. Whether or not the kidney heals itself and continues to function or it shrivels up and dies is another story. They won't find out until they do a blood test on him in a couple days.

The doctors, my mother and I were all afraid that my father wasn't even going to survive the surgery, what with the numerous possible complications from his pre-existing issues, but the only problem they had was that he bled a little more than they were expecting, but they don't think it was enough to require giving him blood. Other than that, the cancer is gone, the tumor is gone, and everything is good to go, so far. Give it a couple days and we'll know more. One thing is for sure - he's gonna shit when the doctors tell him that they saved the kidney. He figured there were only two possible outcomes of the surgery - 1) He'd die, or 2) He'd lose the kidney. Neither happened, and it instead came out as good as it possibly could.

I thought I'd be fine going to work today until my mother told me about the doctors' worry and the other possible complications last night. I still thought I could this morning, and whilst I had plenty of time to get to work, I got there 40 minutes late. I didn't bother punching in, I just went to Blake (our HR guy) and told him that I wouldn't be of much use there today, and explained why. He said that not only did he not mind at all me taking the day off to be with my father, but he'd be concerned if I -hadn't- taken it off. When I told him my car wasn't highway-worthy, he said that he'd find someone from the store to bring me into Rochester. That, I was not expecting. I also wasn't expecting it from him when he said "I'll say a prayer for him." - he doesn't strike me as the religious type, but hey, any positive response to the situation helps, ya know?

I suppose I should have mentioned that the surgery was done at the world-famour clinic that we live about 15 miles from. We like in Kasson, MN, not too far from Rochester,MN - the home of the world-renowned (sp?) Mayo Clinic. He was (and still is, for that matter) in pretty much the best hands in the world. We're probably lucky to live in such close proximity to the place. Who knows how it would have gone anywhere else? It could have come out the same, or it could have been worse. Considering the circumstances, I don't think it could have come out any better.

Well, I'll wrap this up for now... I'm at my aunt's in Rochester at this point, and on a notebook computer whose keyboard is destroying my wrists.... not used to laptops anymore....