My Dad

My Dad

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Personal Narrative- My Dad


Oh my god, I thought this day would never come. He'll be all right, I hope? Why him, why not some one else? On the far southwest corner of the ranch the cool wind whispered through the tall cotton wood trees, forcing me to feel helpless. Time was winding down and I was to. Indescribable hot sweats came over me, my knees began to buckle. I heard my dads voice say, "I'm a goner" echo through the dust cloud that my jittery feet were creating. He was never wrong, in my opinion, but I wanted him to be so badly. I said a prayer and we said, "I love you" for the last time. The ambulance putted up the road barley cleaning it while I sat and watched my daddy slip away, in front of my eyes. Suffocating and fading fast he looked right at me and I thought I had lost my best friend forever.


After many years of hard labor as a mechanic, my dad developed bone spurs in his upper spine at the age of 51. Pain was involved in his everyday life but never stopped him from taking care of his family. Although he could still maintain the ranch, he lost an asset that we loved, and that was throwing a ball here and there. After a while it took control of his life and he wasn't able to do anything. A family discussion was held, options flew here and there, finally a verdict. He would get the surgery, and be back and happy in no time. While making this decision there were things we had talked about. Such as what would we do if we lost you? In addition, is it a safe surgery? It was a touchy subject but we had to talk about it. The doctor told us he had never had a death and that it was a common operation. This made my mom and I feel a wee bit more comfortable until the day of surgery.


He couldn't eat or drink certain things, no painkillers, and was even told to think about happy things. These precautions were taken to lessen the chance of a problem during surgery smaller.


The next week flew by quickly and during that week my family spent every moment together like it was our last. My dad and I threw the ball, just like old times, even though it hurt him.

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Though it was only for a short period, it was worth every minute.


Now the moment of truth. As we entered the hospital, I got an intense whiff latex smell that was wofting the entire area. The only time I had been in that hospital was when I was born. I felt a little nervous but at the same time anxious to get it done. When we had arrived in the waiting room, we gave hugs and kisses and he was then immediately taken to the surgery room. I began to think of thoughts that made me upset. Thoughts like what if? These began to make me acquire the hot sweats once more. After three hours of crying and nervously waiting the doctor slowly came out and said, "The surgery went fine." A huge sigh of relief and tears of joy came to my eyes and we were able to see him. I walked in to the recovering room scared to see the cuts and him all crippled up. "Hey" he said. He was so glad to see us, he was all drugged up, as he kept pushing the button. His voice was cracky like a piece of paper being crumbled and hard to understand. He told us how scared he had been, we told him the same. We wanted him to come home so badly but the doc. said "no."

Two days past and the only communication I had with my dad was by telephone. I missed him very much and they finally sent him home on the third day. I got to see him that afternoon but I had a football game that evening. That night when I got home, he was still awake and I got to have a long talk with him. I didn't sleep very well that night I just figured that I was still stressed out. The morning rolled around it was nearly 7:00 and I woke up with the hot sweats and began to think something was wrong. I over heard my mom speaking on the telephone about my dad. I hopped out of bed, and ran out to see what was happening. Her facial expression right away told me that something was wrong. I started to get scared and realized that wasn't going to help so I just went ahead and called 9-1-1, thinking everything would be alright, well it wasn't. My dad slightly started to lose his breath. We went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror his neck was swollen so much, it was even with his jaw.


I then walked him out and headed to the end of our driveway. I kept asking him if he could breath any easier and he just looked at me and didn't answer. He could barely walk so I guided him all the way. Scared to death, he almost collapsed part of the way. His breathing was getting worse. He started to sound as if he was getting horse but really his esophagus was getting smaller and smaller by the minuet. We finally got to the end of the driveway. Now, Exhausted from myself not being able to breathe because of the not in my throat the whole way, the ambulance took him away. Although he was already gone. On the way to the hospital the hot sweats came over me and I found it hard to breathe again. Even though I know he is gone I will never forget that fate full day and the pain stricken loss of my daddy, my best friend. Still every day I feel him with me, leading me, with the thought of knowing I will see him again one day.
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