So, it’s been a little more than a month since my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer. I’ve been working overtime, so I haven’t been around much.

He just had his 2nd chemo treatment today.

I am flying up to Oregon again on Sunday.

We had an extended-family drama llama on Wednesday.

My uncle sent my dad an email informing him that he and 15 other family members on my dad’s side will be arriving on Saturday.

Yes, they invited themselves over to my parents’ house without asking and giving 3 days notice. They bought plane tickets and everything.

...Dad is not into it. They wanted to arrive 12 hours after a chemo treatment. He told them so. Nope.

You see, for 60 years, their attitude towards my dad has been “Life: You’re Doing it Wrong.”

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For the past 5 weeks, the attitude has been changed to “Dying: You’re Doing it Wrong.”

He has been picked on for not fitting into the Macho Mexican stereotype that my grandfather expected of his son. (Also, there’s some colorism involved because my uncle has always been prized over my father since he presents as white.)

My dad suggested that they can visit in June. My uncle literally said, “We don’t think you’ll live that long.” (He wasn’t necessarily being cruel, just dramaaaatic.)

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My uncle left me a voicemail suggesting that I “talk sense” into my parents. I think the party line is that my evil guera mom is trying to keep him from his family in his dying days.

My cousin called me and suggested that we need to reimburse her for her cancelled flight. I told her to go fuck herself and hung up. I just don’t need these fucking people. I will tell them to fuck themselves all day if I have to.

I only like a handful of living family members and I am losing one of them.

I’ll be with my parents for five days soon, at least.

UPDATE: Here’s my aunt’s facebook update. Subtle guilt trip!