This past year has been the worst of my life. What began as saying goodbye to my four best friends as they moved across the country, led to the most miserable 12 months following. As I tried to spend a summer in Ann Arbor, the stress of my dad getting more sick became too much. I overworked myself and continuously creeped pictures of my friends at home, who were living the crazy, spontaneous summer I longed for. It finally got to the point where I couldn’t stand wasting my summer away from those who I cared about.
When my dad got sick, my mom started drinking, a lot. I know everyone says it’s her way of coping, but it slowly ripped apart my family. I tried to ignore this unfavorable habit, until the night she got hurt. My sister came home to find my mom in a puddle of her own blood. She was rushed to the hospital. I will never forget the night when I had 2 parents in the ICU, with no idea if either of them would live until the morning. I finally left for a summer back home, which reminded me how lucky I was to have my home friends in my life. This was the greatest decision, showed me there was still happiness in life, and I would have people who would never leave my side.
My mom was discharged, and besides the constant hospital visits, life went back to normal. A few weeks later, my dad was put into hospice. I remember finding out and going absolutely insane. I couldn’t believe my life was being ripped from me. I came home to my entire family saying goodbye to the person who has been my #1 support system. Complete terror took over my body as I prepared to suffer an unimaginable loss. For days, I couldn’t keep food down, I couldn’t sleep, I’d never felt more heartache. Desperately, I called U of M who said they had options. We had a huge argument with the oncologist at Beaumont. I couldn’t believe a person would place their dignity above a life. The ambulance came, but they didn’t know if he would even survive the journey to the new hospital. I can’t even put into words the panic a person experiences driving to a new hospital to discover if their parent is still alive. U of M saved his life those next few days. I remember picking him up for discharge and bringing him back to my house at UM. He spent the night because we had hospital visits all morning. I had never been more thankful for medicine.
My dad began a new trial chemo at U of M. He slowly began gaining his strength back. I very much looked forward to taking him to chemo every other week. I not only got to see him, but I got to witness the miracle of medicine. Of course, trail drugs come with consequences. He slowly lost his sight. My panic attacks became much more prominent as I couldn’t stand getting bad news about my dad anymore. Life became too much too handle.
I tried so much to focus on school and to distract myself, but it was hard. I was so envious of my roommate who were handed everything in life. Their parents were able to provide for them, so they had nothing to focus on but grades. I would have killed for that. I was so attached to my friends who I had spent so much time with the two previous years, I wouldn’t let myself believe that there were other people who I could love as much.
As Christmas rolled around, as happy as I was that my dad was FINALLY out of the hospital, life still wasn’t great. My trashy cousin who is one of the worst human beings I know, moved in with us. This ripped my family apart even more. The only person who supported my cousin being there was my mom, which caused choas with the rest of my family. My family got in a fight with out extended family, because my aunt wouldn’t take her own daughter in, and left her with us, who was already battling so much. My dad came up to school to get me, and I refused to leave. I remember laying on the couch sobbing saying I didn’t want to be around Allison. My dad crying because he wouldn’t get to spend Christmas with me. It took two days of convincing for me to finally go home. That was a mistake. I came home to an alcoholic mother, who didn’t want me there.
Christmas had always been my favorite holiday. I loved the love that was constantly spread. At the time, I thought spending a Christmas in the hospital was as bad as it would get, I was wrong. Christmas Eve 2014 was on of the worst days of my life. My mom had drank, per usual, and was doing nothing but screaming. She kept telling my dad how much better life was when he was in the hospital, because we didn’t fight. My heart was shattered. I finally understood why my dad was only living for us. I remember I ate a TV dinner by myself in my sisters room, crying hysterically for Christmas Eve (I don’t even have a bedroom anymore). My mom told me to stop crying, and when I wouldn’t, she told me to go kill myself. There is nothing worse you can do, than tell your depressed daughter to end her life. My dad was sick and constantly had to put up with this, I wasn’t, but even I didn’t want to live anymore. I wrote my mom a letter telling her how much her words hurt me. To this day she still denies it, but I’ll never forget the sorrow she caused me. I screamed to the point where I passed out. My dad finally got me up, and took me to a movie. It was the Hunger Games. He hadn’t seen the first one, but still wanted to go. I still can’t watch that movie without breaking into tears.
The next morning, I was so excited to give my dad all of his presents. He had lost so much weight, so I splurged on a new wardrobe for him. Coincidentally, my sister got him the EXACT SAME OUTFIT. It was nuts, but he laughed so much. I didn’t get a single present. I wasn’t upset that I hadn’t gotten anything, but the fact that they forgot. It made me feel even more useless. I hated going back to school and leaving my friends, but this break, I was counting down the days.
My dad took me back and the same day he had an oncology appointment. We were so worried that the cancer had spread in the short amount of time he had stopped chemo for the holiday. To our surprise, he was almost cancer free. I have only seen my dad cry twice in his life, that was the first. In a world of darkness, there was finally a light. I was thrilled to have a dad to walk me down the aisle, to see me graduate, to support me for the rest of my life. Little did I know, that feeling was only temporary.
As my mom’s drinking got worse, so did my dad’s depression. I don’t blame him though. For two years, he was constantly in the hospital, and when someone you love tells you they want you dead, you start to believe them. He started skipping chemo treatments. I called him every single day, telling him about life. Even when his life was so fragile, he still helped me with my little problems.
A few months later my life turned completely upside down. The cancer had spread everywhere. Because he had skipped chemo treatments, I hadn’t seen him in a few months. I will never forget walking into the hospital and seeing how drastically my dad had changed in the past few weeks. He went from looking hopeful, to nearly a corpse. I ran home from the hospital crying and screaming. This had happened plenty of times before, but I knew this was the end.
A few days later, I walked into his room to visit him. He was crying, this was the second. I asked what was wrong, he told me nothing. I didn’t believe him. As awful as the last year had been, I was lucky enough to have some incredible people walk into my life. I will never let go of the ones who came to the hospital and helped me that day. I couldn’t even bring myself to participate in an event I had become so incredible passionate about. I was devastated.
The next three weeks were miserable. Anxiety took over as I didn’t know if I would make it through the day with both parents still. It was so hard to go to class, or even get out of bed. Easter finally rolled around and I FINALLY got to go home and see my dad. I didn’t know this was my last time seeing him conscious.
I was hysterical going back to school. I wasn’t ready. In my gut I knew I had a limited time with my dad, but he told me to go back. The oncologist said he would be okay, and they would start a new chemo soon. They told me he would live, they lied. I wouldn’t let my mom leave until I got to speak with my dad on the phone. I called the nurses desk constantly asking to speak to him. He reassured me he would be okay.
Thursday, April 9th, was the worst of my life. Although we knew he was sick, nobody is ever ready to hear that their parent only had a few hours to live. I was at work, when I got the dreaded call. I can barely remember anything after that. I ran home, my friend picked me up, drove me to the hospital, as I had a full hour anxiety attack.
When I got there, he was already unconscious. I will never forgive myself for going back to school and not spending more time with him, but I didn’t know. They said he would be fine. The rest of the day was miserable. People coming in and out saying goodbye. Everyone told me for weeks that I had to have “the last conversation” with him, but I knew that meant saying goodbye, and I wasn’t ready. It bothered me how calm the rest of my family was, when I was running around the hospital screaming for help. He knew he was going to die that day, but even when we called, he told us he would be alright. He didn’t want us to worry. I couldn’t even leave the room for a few minutes without panicking that he had taken his last breath. I spent all day curled up by his side, telling him to squeeze my hand, so I knew that he was still there. Two hours before he died, I had an hour alone with him. This was a mistake. I was a mess. I tried to ask him what he wanted me to do with my life, but he couldn’t respond. I am confident he heard me tell him that I loved him. I have to keep telling myself that.
The last hour of his life we all joked around, played his favorite songs, and laughed at the memories we had with him. His breathing got slower, and I began to freak out.
You will never understand heartbreak until you watch someone you love take their last breath. I was laying on his body when it happened, and I knew the exact moment. I had always heard people say that when a person dies, they lose about a pound, because it’s their soul going to heaven. I believe them. As soon as he took his last breath, the entire bed inflated with air, to adjust to the different weight. That’s when I called for the nurse, and they pronounced him dead. I laid on his body screaming for two hours, until they had to take it for organ donation.
Leaving the hospital that night, I was in complete shock. I wanted to go to sleep and to never wake up until the pain was gone. I woke up to a nightmare. 12 hours prior he was living, 12 hours he died, 12 hours later, I was picking out my dad’s casket. I wouldn’t wish this kind of pain on anyone.
The next week was miserable. As much as I wanted to be surrounded by people to distract me, I constantly had a huge lump in my throat that never went away. I dreaded going to the viewing and funeral, because I didn’t want to see my dad like that.
The last memory I have of my dad is his cold body laying in the casket. It will forever haunt me.
I could barely pull myself together enough to attend the funeral. It was miserable. I don’t even have words for it.
You think losing a parent would be the end of the misery, it wasn’t. At the funeral, my cousin was severely burned by a tumbler of coffee. I ran to the front as I watched skin slowly fall of his face. It was mortifying. I couldn’t believe that these terrible incidents were still happening to me. The next day, I was back in the ICU watch someone I love fight for their life. I was panicked, sad, but mostly angry. I lost all faith in medicine, I lost all motivation in school. I was so mad that my family was so sad about him getting burned but not my dad died. I was envious of all of the people getting discharged, when my dad didn’t get to.
The next three months came, and life continued to get worse. When someone dies, you very much realize who your true friends are. The people who I thought would be there for me, weren’t. I was cursed living with the most selfish human being I had come to known. For two years people told me to avoid her, but I didn’t listen. I wish I had. I am sad that I let her terrible attitude and negativity affect me for two years. I had never known someone so toxic until I met her, and I am so grateful that she is no longer in my life. I had people who I had barely known come and help me in ways I never thought possible. People who would calm me down just by holding me. People who let me sleep over all of the time because I wasn’t okay alone. People who slowly started putting back together my broken heart.
The first month, total shock. I was still waiting for my dad to call me, and tell me life would be okay someday. I thought of him all of the time, whether it was eating a frosty, or grilling. It was normal for me not to see him for a few weeks at a time, but it never ended.
The next two, severe depression. I always thought losing someone I loved would encourage me to fight the disease that took them, I was wrong. I was so discouraged. I did even worse in school, for medicine didn’t work, and I had no motivation. The Dean was not understanding of my situation and didn’t work with me and school work. I stopped getting out of bed, I was never happy. I am not happy. My mom still tells me she doesn’t want me in my life, we lost our shitty condo, and I risked suspension from my dream school that I worked so hard to get into. I am so defeated. You think losing a parent is the worst thing that can happen to you, that you’ve finally hit rock bottom and it’ll only get better from here. It doesn’t. Life is still constantly going downhill. You ask for help, you go to several psychologists, nothing helps. No matter who you talk to, they can change the shitty situation you’re in. I have to say goodbye to the one person who’s pushed me to hold on for so long. I have lost everything I loved. It isn’t fair, life isn’t fair. I wouldn’t wish this amount of pain on anyone.
Two years ago, I had a great life. I was smart, skinny, successful, happy, thankful, and had the world ahead of me. In those two years, I lost my dad, my mom mentally, our house, my schooling, my best friends, and all of my happiness. I cannot express how terrifying it is to not know what the future holds, and not having any motivation. Life needs to start getting better. I can’t take much of this anymore.
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