it's one of those days when everything around me reminds me about my dad. i guess no one starts this journey thinking that no matter what you do, there's nothing that can help. i remember thinking of ways to give my dad hope, when he'd feel down. Then I'd remember the way i talked to him the day before he went into the hospital because he didn't want me to go out to the local clubs. I'd feel so guilty- so sorry. Then I'd shake my head and try to forget those things because here I was taking care of my dad, along with my sister, mom, and two younger brothers. It seemed like every effort we gave we were pushed down with negativity- and my poor daddy, having to bear it all and still be strong for the boys.
My dad was 45 years old, a very healthy and active guy. Every sunday he had a soccer game and everyday he'd go to the gym for two hours.. they say exercise always helps. So what went wrong? I remember the night we got a call from his girlfriend telling us that he was in the hospital. I was so scared- I'd never known my dad to even suffer from a cold and now he was in the hospital! He was at our local hospital for two weeks- in Laredo,TX, before doctors concluded it was CC. We'd been begging the doctors to release him so we could take him to MD Anderson a mere 4.5hrs away. but they'd just laugh in our face and say- you need to worry about your dad's will, not treatment. My dad would want to be alone for a good while- i guess to let everything around him sink in. But before you knew it my little brothers (8 and 11 years old) would come barging in the room to cheer him up. I can see his eyes sparkling when they walked into the room. When we finally got a release- we felt we were reaching that light at the end of the tunnel. That same day, we flew my dad to houston and admitted him to MD anderson asap. we were all motivated and ready to put up any fight that was needed. The next day, doctors walked in to tell us that there was nothing we could do, but keep him comfortable. my dad never gave up- it had been weeks since he'd had a solid meal, because it was too painful for him and drs didn't recommend it. although he was weak, he managed to keep his charm strong- flirting with my mom and apologizing for everything he'd done. for a week we lived in that hospital, my mom stayed by my dads side night and day, while my sister and i took my brothers to my uncle's house to sleep. AFter three days, my dad went into a coma. He'd wake up for a few seconds, but it was so hard for him to keep his eyes open. no matter what...He always found the strength to say i love you when we would leave and give us a big hug. Then on November 26 at 6.50am my sister called me hysterical to wake my brothers and go to the hospital. We arrived at 7.45 and as we parked my sister called to tell me my daddy had passed. i couldn't believe it- and i guess i still cant.
For, those who are taking this battle head on- I wish you the best of luck and don't ever ever give up. And for those who have lost the battle- i praise those of you who are here for having the courage to keep living... may God be with everyone who is somehow touched by this horrible condition. and let us never ever forget those who have fought to the end.