My dad has cancer.

There's no need to sugar coat it or beat around the bush.

He has cancer.

My sister and I were with him when he got his test results back and, even though we all knew that's what the doctor would say, it still knocked the wind out of me when he said "positive for prostate cancer."

Monday seemed like 5 days crammed into one. No one wants to discuss wills and funeral plans before they've even had a bowl of cereal, but that's how my day started out.

I know prostate cancer is extremely treatable, but it still scares the hell out of me that I could lose my Dad. What gets me the most (and this may sound ridiculous) is that he may not be around to walk me down the isle. Call me selfish, but when I start thinking about that is when the heaviest tears start coming down.

We don't know how advance the cancer is, but he did a bone yesterday and will get the results on Friday. The waiting is what's killing me. We know it's cancer and now we want to get it taken care of, but we can't yet. It's maddening!