I lost my dad to cancer (part three)
(**This next part, I've never shared with anyone...until now.**)
I wish I could've been stronger for my dad, cried less in front of him and smiled more instead. I wish I could've remembered that this whole thing was bigger than just me! That I wasn't the only one hurting and the only one praying for a miracle to happen. I wish I would've told my dad how much I love him and how proud of him I am. I wish I would've told him that I'm going to miss him when he's gone but I'll never stop thinking of him. I want to apologize for the times I got annoyed whenever I had to wake up when it was still dark out to drive him to his appointments (it kills me that I actually got annoyed.) I wish I would've hugged him more, held his hands more. I wish I could've helped him accept his life coming to an abrupt end and together, find comfort and peace through God to spend whatever time we had left together, just being together.
During his second surgery, he was loosing too much blood so the surgeons had to stop operating. Post surgery dad this time was even more different than the first. His whole right side was paralyzed, his speech was impaired, his memory almost completely gone and he couldn't eat or drink anything through his mouth anymore. He was breathing on his own and wasn't completely brain dead so he wasn't technically in a "vegetative state" but none of us found any comfort in that. To us, the condition my dad was in after that second surgery was worse than a vegetative state. Watching him breathing and still being "alive" but not being able to move or talk or eat or even drink water was so painful. I'd wake up and look at my dad and he'd be thinner than he was just a few hours prior when I went to sleep. Finally, I talked to my family and made the decision to take my dad home. As you'd expect not everyone was on board with my decision and a lot of hurtful words were exchanged between those who agreed and disagreed. None of us really meant anything we said, we were all just hurting. Though at the moment it was hard to keep that perspective clear in our minds.
Once my dad was brought home, the hospice nurse taught me how to properly give him his medications, fluids, "food" all through his feeding tubes, clean his wounds, sponge bathe him and change his soiled pads/diapers and bedding. (This is another thing I never actually told people that I learned to do once my dad came home from the hospital. It's just not a "normal" thing for a 24 year old daughter to be doing for her father every day, you know? But I hope he knows that I decided to bring him home because I didn't want him hurting and dying at the hospital. Instead, during his most vulnerable time I wanted to be the one to take care of him the way he deserved to be taken care of. I didn't want him to have to wait for anything or anyone, I wanted him to know even during his last days how it feels to be somebody's number 1, somebody's priority...all the time, just like the way he always made me and my brother feel.
October 26th 2012, I held my dads hand as tight as I could as I watched him take his final breath and close his eyes. My last biggest regret from this whole experience is from that night. (And yet another thing I've never told anyone until now.) I wish I would've remembered to wake up my brother the moment I realized my dad was finally letting go so that they both could've seen each other one last time. I wish I could've done that for the both of them. I'm sorry dad, I'm sorry Sam.
Throughout this whole experience, I've had amazing people by my side. I'm thankful for my loved ones. Family and friends who were always there to help me up and family and friends who continue to keep me up. But sometimes, no matter how strong your support group is you can't help but feel weak and alone. It's just human nature. A lot of amazing things have happened since my dad passed away but similar to what I just said about feeling weak regardless of how strong your support group is, even when things are good, one can still feel sad. I miss him so much I literally feel chest pains.
(During this very open rant, I noticed that the new show "the slap" was on. I wasn't paying any attention to the tv but turned to see what was on for a second and saw a character on the show looking up "glioblastoma multiforme" on Google....I literally got goosebumps all over. I figured, maybe this is a sign telling me it's okay for me to just open up...it's ok. So I kept typing...and yeah.) if you actually read through this whole thing, wow...thank you.
Life is a gift. Mine is as precious as yours and ours is as precious as anyone else's out there. The only the time that changes is when you choose to devalue your own life. Don't do that. You only get one life.
Live it well.
❤️
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