2nd sleepless night in so much pain that words do not cover it. Weds night I woke up at 3am in so much pain in my right shoulder that I thought I had dislocated it (in my sleep???) (that pain that you get in your shoulder post op from trapped gas that will not go away?) ...coughing so much that I couldn't breath (I am not asthmatic)...I have been that way ever since (started at around the time that he actually died...not sure if I believe in that stuff but maybe, I felt it)...is the physical pain there to help deal with the emotional pain? Other than the first few hours and a couple of phone calls to those very close to me back home that brought out the tears, I have not cried.
My dad spent his life in a waiting room. Waiting for me to go in to see the doctor. Waiting for the doctor to decide what to do with me. Sitting in a surgical waiting room waiting for me to come out of O.R....walking me down long green hallways (why are they always green?) to O.R.
He spent his life waiting for me to heal, then to be happy...then he had a stroke and spent 20 yrs waiting for me to come home to see him (I did every year, sometimes twice...I even bought an apt next to where he lived so that I could stay longer and see him more)
Then he waited for me to come so that he could die.
He died exactly 1 month before I could get there...
I know that without his strength, love and courage I would have never survived this disease. He was my courage, he gave me the will to live and fight even when I wanted to give up.
He dragged me across the city, country and even across the continent to specialists, to have experimental procedures, radical treatments and eventually horrible disappointments. But he never gave up on me.
I do not know if he ever really lived his own life (what parent with a sick child does?) but he certain helped me to live mine.
I know that my escape to Paris hurt him terribly but in the end he understood it and was even proud of me...that means a lot (he used to ask why I had to go so far away to make him proud, couldn't I have done it closer to home?)
Maybe now, finally, after 20yrs of hemiplegia, pain, suffering, amputation and indignities he is at peace...I do hope so.
Sharon