Have you ever been so terrified that you wanted to cry? I saw my dad looking at his phone intensively, so I walked over to see what he was looking at. I looked at his phone and saw a horrifying bloody picture. I asked him what it was and he looked at me with a horrified look. He told me, “Your grandfather, he is sick.” I instantly turned around and asked what was wrong, and he told me, “Kidney Cancer”. Later he explained to me what it was, how it affects the human body, and why it's dangerous the entire time he was speaking, my eyes were open in shock. After Seeing those horrifying images, I had nightmares for an entire week, every night was something different. In my dreams, I saw my grandfather and the inside of his body but the scariest part was the doctor saying “I do not think he can make it.”Sometimes I still see those images in my head, horrifying images in my head and it is scary. The next morning I woke up, I heard my Dad …show more content…
Another few days go on and my dad comes into my room to talk to me, he was on the phone with someone and he said “Come talk to your grandpa” I quickly jumped out of my chair and quickly snatched the phone out of his hand. I and my grandfather talked for a few hours and he told me everything that happened to him. Another week went on and I thought to myself, last week I almost lost a grandfather, my dad almost lost his father, my grandmother almost lost her husband. Until this day I see those pictures that my father was looking at in my head. I hear the same conversation that he had with my grandmother in my head. It's been over a month and I still remember each and every word that I was told precisely, but the worst part is that i'll remember it
Losing a family member to cancer is like getting hit in the face with a load of bricks. Going through the process is like a never ending journey to hell, especially after the death. I am constantly reminded of the little things, pleasant and spiteful. The love in my heart for my grandmother caused me to experience the most pain in my life.- cancer is an insanely draining, vindictive, not to mention an-emotional rollercoaster.
I received the call that my brother had overdosed when I was going to a haunted house with a couple of my friends. My mother had not known the severity and told me not to worry. Steven had overdosed in the past so I was not as concerned as I should have been. My friends and I kept on with our festivities and then they dropped me off at my house. There was no one home and I became distressed. When I called my mother she told me to just go to bed and that they would be home soon. I forced myself to sleep. I was in a daze when my mother and father came into my room to tell me that my brother was dead. I don’t know what happened in my brain, but I could not talk and I could not cry. I believe I brushed it off as an awful nightmare. My unconscious demeanor scared my parents so they kept sending people in my room trying to get through to me. I woke up to my best friend hugging me, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke up to my grandma holding my hand with tears flowing down her eyes, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke to my godmother speaking about grief and how I needed to believe that he was gone, and then she left. How was I supposed to believe that my brother was no longer on this earth? I sat there on my bed alone as the idea of my brother dying crept into my mind. My heart began to literally ache. I cried hysterically for hours on hours. It has been a year since he has passed and it doesn’t get any
"Ring, ring", I wondered who was calling me at this time of evening. "Yes; o.k.; Yes, I'll be there", I said before hanging up the phone. What was wrong, I wondered all that evening that the doctor wanted me to come in to discuss my lab results? I had never been asked to come in to the office after doing blood tests before; when receiving a call as this the mind plays tricks on the person and wild things start popping up in the head.
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
When I walked inside the front door something didn’t seem right. The feeling of sorrow overwhelmed the house. It was so thick I could literally feel it in the air. Everyone was motionless. They were sulking;I was befuddled. The most energetic people in the world, doing absolutely nothing. I repeatedly asked them what was wrong. After an hour or so, my dad pulled me aside. He said that my Aunt Feli had passed away last night. My mind went for a loop, I was so confused. I thought that he was joking, so I replied “You’re lying, don’t mess with me like that.” and punched his shoulder softly while I chuckled. My dad quickly started tearing up and said, “There...
“You have what is called polycystic kidney disease. What that means is you have a cut and some holes on your kidney, and internal bleeding.” The doctor said. My heart sank. I thought about how something so ignorant ended so horrendously. Here’s how it happened...
He immediately knows what I was thinking. Pulling my hair out of my face he tells Ming and I that he is alive but in some pain. I let out a deep breath that I was holding in ever since this accident. I spot a my dad. He is having a nap on the dirt surface.
Imagine having to wake up each day wondering if that day will be the last time you see or speak to your father. Individuals should really find a way to recognize that nothing in life is guaranteed and that they should live every day like it could be there last. This is the story of my father’s battle with cancer and the toll it took on himself and everyone close to him. My father was very young when he was first diagnosed with cancer. Lately, his current health situation is much different than what it was just a few months ago. Nobody was ready for what was about to happen to my dad, and I was not ready to take on so many new responsibilities at such an adolescent age. I quickly learned to look at life much differently than I had. Your roles change when you have a parent who is sick. You suddenly become the caregiver to them, not the other way around.
Growing up I can remember being so excited for the first day of school. It became tradition for my mother to walk me to class. However, my sixth grade year I was hesitant because I was embarrassed. Not because I felt I was too old, but because my mommy was bald. At the time all I could understand was that my mom was sick. My mom had breast cancer. I didn’t really know what cancer was but one thing that I did know was cancer was the same thing that my grandpa passed away from when I was in the fifth grade.
Who knew that three jarring words would cause a hurricane. Like any other day, I swiftly walked home after school. I skipped up to my watermelon colored room and clicked away to Candy Crush. Then my dad hollered for my brothers and me. Running down the stairs, I hoped to discuss our next tropical destination. Reaching the bottom, I entered into the kitchen only to find glistening tears beginning to swell up in my dad's eyes.
We parked all our strollers and made our way to the bathrooms. I dreaded entering the cement block building, but I knew there was no other way. I tried to get done as quickly as possible, but there were such long lines that it was impossible. Once I had finished my business, I made my way outside and searched for a familiar face. My heart sped up as I realized I did not recognize anyone around me. I tried to stay calm, but soon my eyes started watering and the familiar lump in my throat appeared. Faces blurred as I tried to comprehend what was happening. I walked to the stroller parking; all the while my head whipped back and forth searching for a family member. When I made it there and noticed our strollers were gone, I really began to panic. My palms became sweaty and I thought I might throw up the cotton candy I had earlier. As my small mind started going into overdrive and thinking, “They left. They forgot about me,” my body slowly walked me back to the sour-smelling restrooms. I sat on a bench around the outside of the building and began to cry. I was positive that they had done it on purpose, and that my own family did not love me. As I sat there hoping it was not true, my mind continually repeated the words my father said to me. "If you ever get lost don't wander off. Stay where you are, and we will come find
My father's eyes opened, and he called out for my sister Kelly and I to come to him. In a very serious and sad voice, he told us that he was very sick, and he was going to the Fort Wayne hospital. My mother told Kelly and I to help her pack some things for him, because he was going to be leaving soon. We helped her pack, keeping quiet because we did not want to interrupt the silence that had taken over the room.
February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to the hospital as quickly as possible as if it may be the last time to see her older brother. My mom finally calls me back and when I tell her the news, she quickly leaves work. That after-noon I lost my Uncle.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
...tered and saw what was before me; my stomach got a really bad feeling and I began to breakdown and cry. My daddy was laying on a big white bed with cords connected to him. His arm was wrapped up and he had doctors surrounding him. He was crying which made me even more upset.