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Always There MAG
It all started in February. My 40-year-old dad beganfeeling unusual pains around his stomach. Being stubborn, he refused to make anappointment with the doctor until the pain became unbearable. When the dayarrived for him to go, my brother, two sisters and I were nervous and could onlyimagine how my dad felt.
He came home with bad news burdening his mind andbody that never left him at ease again. My mom is the one who told us theresults. After various scans, blood samples and x-rays, the doctors were sendinghim to an oncologist.
That's right - my dad was going to be tested for thelife-devouring disease cancer. The same dad who taught me so many small yetuseful things, like how to cast a fishing line the right way and how to dry offmy back after a shower. My dad, the only one I will ever have, who was there atmy birth, was being examined for cancer.
Days of excruciating pain for myentire family passed slowly. My little sister was the only one who did notunderstand what was going on.
Finally, the day arrived for my mom and dadto take the much dreaded trip to the oncologist. My siblings and I went throughanother very long day of school. When we got home, my parents were there. Theystill did not know the results. Days later, the phone rang. It was the clinic,with bad news.
My mouth hung open and my eyes got teary. Had my parentssaid it right? Yes, they had. My dad has terminal colon cancer. If my dad hadjust gone to see a doctor sooner, it could have been stopped from spreading, oreven removed. What would be next? Too soon, we found out.
Now, not only isthere a tumor in his colon, but on his spine, too. My dad has cancer in a lot ofhis system, making it hard for him to breathe. This awful disease was spreadingrapidly. The oncologists told him he had a year to live, at the most. Now, thatyear is coming to an end, and his condition is worsening.
For so manynights we have listened to my dad in pain. It is hard to listen to, but then Ithink how my dad must feel. As his pain is physically unbearable for him, it isemotionally agonizing for me. The thought of my beloved dad not being around formy sweet sixteen or when I get my license constantly weighs on my mind. But myworst thoughts are of my dad not being there to walk me down the aisle, or enjoyhis grandchildren. Not only do I cry about this, but my dad does, too. We aresuffering emotionally, physically, financially and mentally. This is the worsepain I have ever lived through, but then I imagine it through my dad'seyes.
My dad now has to use an oxygen machine just to breathe. He has lost40 pounds. He is pale and doesn't have enough strength to keep his eyes open.Sometimes, I will walk into his room and see him crying. All I can do when I seethat is go to my room and cry too. Every day I am losing more and more of my dad.He is slowly slipping away from us. I never realized how much I loved him. Ibelieve that he and I are closer now than we have ever been, but I regret thefact that he had to get cancer for that to happen.
We do not know if he'lllive much longer. But I do know that I will spend every day of my life with himin some way. I know I am going to spend the rest of my life fatherless. I willonly be able to take my future boyfriends home to my mother. No one will be thereto teach me the small things; I will have to figure them out for myself the hardway. My dad will no longer be here to be protective of his little girl. But hewill never leave me.
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