2-by-4 to the head

I've been doing pretty well for the most part. Michael's ex-wife, Janet, Rob and I sat with him until about 10 last night, then Rob and I brought him to the doctor this morning. As we waited for the doctor, we talked a little about what's coming.
He joked that he still wants me to cremate him and then toss his ashes at passers-by while saying "Body of Mike, body of Mike."
At some point, he'll come stay with Rob and me. We don't know when that will be.
"I guess whatever I was put here for, it's done," he said.
Not necessarily. He still has some time left, but he's very sick and weak right now, and they need to find a way to get nutrition into him. They're hoping the chemo will kill off enough cancer cells in the colon lining so he can eat. They might put in a drain to get rid of the accumulated fluid. We still have so many questions and so few answers.
Friends and family members want to know what's next and we don't have anything to tell them. I'm coming back for his next doctor's appointment in two weeks so we can ask more about what to expect.
On one level, I want to know everything, and on another, I want to know nothing, to be able to deny what's happening.
The support from friends has been wonderful. It really does hold me up. My friend and colleague, John Boyle, called me this afternoon and actually had me laughing. He has no idea how much I neeed that at the very moment he called.
It's when I'm alone that it hits me.
We dropped Michael off at home so he could sleep after his doctor's appointment and went out to lunch and then came back to the hotel. I walked across the street to Circuit City just to wander around and as I saw something that looked rather complicated, I thought, "Michael can figure that out."
That's when it hit me, like a 2-by-4 to the forehead. He'll be gone soon.
Danny is devastated. He doesn't know what to do to comfort himself, and I don't have words to help him this time. There is no comfort today.