Study found link to breast, colon, liver and other tumors
by Liamhain on Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:00 AM
There is this empty hollow feeling...
It has been two years almost since my father passed away. August 05, 2006. Still hurts, and still I have nightmares of my dad batteling Pancreatc Cancer. I was only 20 when he passed away, my third year in college. Honestly, felt like giving it all up. Interests lost in just about every subject. You see there is the old saying Blood is thicker than wine. My father that passed away was not my biological father. In fact I must admit I was a bratty little kid when I first met him. You see my aunt adopted me but I always called her mother. I never met my biological father, but heard some horrible things he has done and he is still serving his "jail" time after all of these years.
I thought John, would take my mother away! He came into this life with me crying and he departed this world with me crying. Since I was six i've had him in my life and he was the best thing to ever happen to me. He taught me how to ride my bike, to be myself, and he protected me whenever I had conflicts with my mom (yes she and I rarely got along). When you watch someone die over course of a few months it is hard to believe, you always have this feeling that they will be super man! and over come anything! It killed me the week before he passed away when he was lying in bed his eyes he couldn't close them, so it was hard to tell if he was asleep or not. Heavy rains came and it flooded near our neighborhood and of course in Arizona, rain is scarce! My dad was the type of person to go out and explore things however he was to sick to move.
I promised him I would go take pictures of the flood, I remember touching his hand and he jumped. "What are you doing!?!" he asked and I remember telling him "just checking if you are okay", honestly I couldn't tell. A week later he couldn't take even water in, and his body was withering away. The Cancer cells overtook the Chemotherapy. We called an ambulance over on July 31, 2006. They checked for his pulse, took his heat beat, then they hoisted him onto a stretcher. He told me last thing he said before he became medicated was:
"Take care of your mother for me", they placed him on medications and pain killers, I forgot which one but he had an allergic reaction to one of them and he became even more in a vegitative state. We spent three days in the hospital waiting for Dr. Katakar to way come in and diagnose. the hospital bed was too small for my dad's tall feet, and he began to get bed sores.
"Get that white clock!" he always shouted, seeing hallucinations and he always pulled and tugged at the IV and wires. I remember him trying to climb out of bed, and course what can a 4'11 person do to stop a 6'3 person? I went out and asked for assistance at the nurses, there were two of them. I remember the male's name being Chris and the female I don't know her name. They were in middle of a gossip conversation and they just stared at me when I asked for help as if I were stupid.
My father ended up coming out of bed, almost tripping but by then my mother and step sister came in and put him back in bed. Honestly, still to this DAY I am quite "angry" and pissed at the way these people treated and handled my dads situation. I knew they knew he was dying, but they could at least have the nerve and decency to make his final days comfortable! Dr. Katakar came in on August 3rd, and he told us my dad only had two days tops for living.So we placed my father that night in Casa De La Luiz Hospice.
On August 4, 2006, a minister came in and asked my father. "What faith" he is. My dad knowing his witty sarcasm put his arms behind his head and said. If I had any money and patience I would sue the hospital my father was in.
"Well I guess I would say Prespretarian", his humor. Then he said "Can you please get me a newspaper?'' You see the moral of all of this is. Family can come in all shapes, sizes, and forms. Your family can be your closest friends, and the ones that raised and took care of you. It is not always blood. I want anyone that reads this to know my dads story. Keep your loved ones in your memory and hearts. They will never fade away ever from there. It is hard extremely, but believe me memories last. Still to this day once in a while I wonder if I am living in a nightmare, I pinch myself.
Fact is we live in reality. Find those that are there for you and don't hide your pain in, believe me. It makes things worse. The only terrible thing you can do is forget. IF anyone here EVER needs anything please let me know. I noticed after my father died I became a better person. I admit before he died I was a spoiled brat in many ways. There were times I was selfish. Now I consider changing my major from Journalism to Social Work. I believe now I was placed here to help people. So I figure this is a start.
by Anniedips on Wed Apr 02, 2008 12:00 AM
Lindsay, you sound like a wonderful responsible person. You verbalized how you felt about your father very well and I am sure he was proud of you as his child. Thank you for the offers to be a "sounding board" for all of us. I lost my husband in February 2008 to stomach cancer. It is so hard. I, too, feel as though I am in a nightmare from which I cannot awaken. My memories of him keep me going and also knowing that some day we will be reunited. Til then.....one day at a time.
I give you and people like my mom courage. Losing a spouse I can't even imagine going through. Sorry about losing your husband, i'm sure he is proud of you. Sometimes we must take babysteps. My neighbor across the street her husband had a heart attack I believe? I don't really remember exactly, he had it a few months after my dad passed away and they were really good friends. When they were performing surgery on him he had a stroke. So Marie spent almost a year aiding her husband Joe taking him to therapy and spending time at the hospital. He finally passed away in January, it was rough on us all. Twice a week I go stay at her house and bring movies, puzzles, and games since she lives there by herself.
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