I haven’t been looking forward to writing about my dad, but I realize it is important to do so for this blog. Even though he was very sick for a long time, he had overcome so many close calls and setbacks that it was still a shock when he finally did pass. My father loved life and did not want to die, even though he was frail and in constant pain. He was a fighter, too, so the way he left us was rather unexpected.
My father had cirrhosis of the liver. When the liver ceases to function properly, the toxins build up in the brain, causing encephalopathy. The way I understand it to be, encephalopathy is the effect of damaged or destroyed brain cells, which causes the afflicted person to lose motor function, causing what is called ‘the shakes’. It is similar to Parkinson’s Disease. The toxins, mainly ammonia that is not filtered out of the bloodstream, also affect lucidity. There is a medicine that works wonders on this. It is a simple chemical, I believe a type of sugar called enulose, that both neutralizes the ammonia in the body and flushes out the body to help remove toxins and things the liver would normally take care of. My father took this for years, but unfortunately the effect slowly diminished.
Once I was home with the little ones my mother was able to focus her attention on my father. The trembling and confusion from the encephalopathy meant that he had to be watched around the clock, so being home at that time was exactly what needed to happen. But I would like to note that I am not the hero here. When my sister realized what was going on she made arrangements with her employer to telecommute so she could help out. He was so happy to see her. My mother was able to run errands and take breaks. And, my sister would be there for as long as she needed to be. As it turned out, it wasn’t all that long.
I knew my father was not going to bounce back this time. But I expected- everyone expected- a long, drawn-out process, with him fighting all the way. I was prepared to face IV feeding, long days at hospitals, bedside vigils as he slid into a coma. What I did not expect was to be visiting my parents one night, trying unsuccessfully to help my dad sit up, and then have my sister knocking on my door early the next morning to tell me that he was on his last breaths. By the time I got to Mom’s house, he was gone. Though he was very sick for a very long time, it was still as shocking and perplexing as if he had been run over by a bus. I still don’t understand why it was so sudden. I only pray that he wasn’t trying to sit up the night before to try to give me a hug or say goodbye.
But even more stunning than my father’s passing was how my dog suddenly got sick. I assumed he was stressed about everything that was going on and disregarded his lack of appetite and vomiting. But the day after the funeral (Easter Sunday) he looked so sick that I took him to the emergency vet, who diagnosed him with renal failure. They kept him overnight but he did not respond to treatment. We had to put him to sleep the next day. I cannot even begin to describe how guilty I still feel for ignoring him. That was four days after my dad passed away.
The following couple of weeks were tough. Thank God for family. They are always there when you need them. Never ever take your family for granted, even if you don’t see them very much. Because when you must get through your darkest hours, they are the ones who will be there to help you through. Thank you everyone for your condolences and warm wishes. They were much needed and welcome.
So one afternoon not long afterwards I am sitting at my computer, with no job, no dog, and no dad. I am going through my e-mail and find a message from the editor of a tiny publishing company I had submitted one of my stories to. It was not a rejection letter. Quite the opposite.
Sometime next year my first novel will be published. It may sound like a happy ending, but it’s not. It is only the beginning, and I have a lot of work to do.
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