I’m not even really sure how to write this post, or if I should write it… all I know is that it replays in my mind constantly and I feel like I need to get it off of my chest.
It is roughly one year to the day that we found out my Dad has cancer. It is also about 4 months since we were told that it had come back and is now stage IV. What a year it has been… I often talk about the hellish nightmare it is, nothing’s changed there. We should have a frequent flyer card for the hospital, even my 2 year old knows how to manuever through the rat maze that is Swedish Hospital, he’ll tell you exactly where to go to see “Grampa and his big owie”
A few days ago was another trek to the hospital. I got a phone call early in the morning from my step mom, clearly panicked, that my Dad had just left the house in an ambulance. He had gone to the bathroom and just as she went to check on him she caught him as he fell to the floor and proceeded to bleed out all over the bathroom floor. Continue reading “Trauma and Cancer, A Dynamic Duo”