It Was A Long Battle....

In June of 2008, three weeks after my 16 birthday, my dad had a heart attack. He was working in his gallery that morning (he was an artist) and had gone next door for a glass of water. The owner of the shop was a former nurse, saw him, and called an ambulance right away. He had the heart attack on the way to the hospital.



My dad was fine for the first few days. He had a stent placed and was in the ICU, but was walking around and joking with the cute nurses. Then, it all went down hill. He got a staph infection (quite suspiciously) in his lungs and was put in an induced coma for a month and a half. Then, after four months at the local ICU, my mom realized that he wasn't going to get any better where he was. So, despite the negativity originating from all of his doctors, my mom decided to transfer him to a hospital six hours away which specialized in cardiopulmonary problems. I stayed home in order to go to school; I lived with friends, I lived on my own, and I lived with a roommate. It was a shock to me, as an only child, but I had no choice.

Over the next few months, I was able to visit him a few times. I saw him get progressively better. He was still on a breathing tube, but he was able to whisper sounds and could speak when the nurses attached a special speech device to his throat. He was even sitting up in his bed (something he wasn't able to do for months because of the horrendous bed sores he had on his back and because his muscles had basically deteriorated). He truly, and I truly, believed he was going to make it.

Then, becuase he was doing so well, the new doctors encouraged us to go back home. The next day, my dad was helicoptered to a facilitiy only two hours away from home. He spent one night in that horrid place, and in one night (ONE NIGHT) everything he had worked on for the last 3 - 4 months went away completely. He was back where he was before, unable to move, speak, and basically in a coma.

He was transferred to yet another hospital, things went uphill, then things went downhill. I drove two hours back and forth everyday to see him. I love him so much. I struggled in school, but school was nothing compared to my dad and my teachers knew that (I had always been a High Honors student, so they trusted that I would get my work done).



A month later, my dad was transferred to his last hospital. He stayed for two months and deteriorated before my eyes. I actually remember studying for my AP tests and SATs in the hospital room and pacing myself so that I would finish one section before the nurses would have to come in to turn my dad (and treat his sores...which were extremely deep since it had been ten months already). I was in denial, I didn't want to accept teh fact that he was going to pass, but I somehow had a gut feeling that the worst was going to come. And, it did. I think I saw him "die" two or three days before he actually did. He was just lying there without anyone inside of him....he wasn't my dad. His eyes were glazed, his skin was yellow and grey and he didn't see me. Even though, he was looking right at me.



I just remember waiting for my mom in the hotel room at 4 in the morning, and seeing her through the peephole in the door. She was holding a box of tissues. I knew.



He died two weeks before my 17th birthday.

 

These past 9 or 10 months have been the hardest in my life. I've had so many ups which people seem to commend (like becoming a finalist for some scholarship) and so many downs that people seem just to forget. I really am sad, and nobody seems to know. I went from an all-star athlete and great student, to someone who doesn't even care about school. I got into a serious car accident last month which ended in me being airlifted to a trauma center...so I've been in school 4 days in the past month. I'm failing as Class President, and everyone seems to notice that. I argue with my mom constantly. I'm angry at all my half siblings, they very seldom visited my dad, and when they did, they only milked my mom and I for all we were worth (which isn't that much). They were all just greedy pests who didn't care. Now they claim to be "sad" but I truly doubt their sincerity.



I've tried to commit suicide twice already, both failed. My stupidity led to serious health consequences. My mom refuses to get me help. I need it, I know I do. I've have anger issues, I'm self-conscious, and I've isolated myself because I don't care anymore. This is why I'm reaching out here. I need your help, because I've already drained out my other resources. My teachers are becoming annoyed with the fact that I can't do my work, my school counselor freaked the hell out of my mom when she told her that I may not even graduate (highly unlikely with my 4.2 GPA). We have no money, no car (because of the crash), and no family in America (my mom is Chinese).

I need to do something positive now. I'm only complaining, but my pain has built this wall that has blocked me from seeing the light at the end of this tunnel. I've lost my dad, and myself. I want to move forward, but it's so hard.

chelseaola2 chelseaola2
18-21, F
2 Responses Feb 23, 2010

My dad died in June 2008 too and it was 11 days before my 13th birthday. He died of a heart attack while going for a jog in the morning

I lost my dad when i was 13. You CAN'T just stop living. you have to fight through the pain it might seem impossible now but you'll adjust. Don't commit suicide because its painful think of your mother, You need each other now more than ever. You CAN overcome this you'll be a stronger person for it. Trust me. If you need to talk I'm here. you can be happy again. Don't give up it only feels like this now Remember it's always darkest before the light