I shouldn't be writing. It's too soon. It's too painful. It's coming back. But I need to do it.
18 years ago. I remember it like yesterday. I was home from college. I was watching Days of Our Lives. The phone rang. It was my mom. She was in Minneapolis with my dad, sister and brother-in-law, John. Mom asked me what I was doing. I could tell something was wrong. Then she was gone. My sister came on the phone and said, "Susan, Dad...". Then she was gone. Then it was John. "Susan, your dad has had a stroke." I don't remember what he said after that.
What the hell? He's 49. What the hell?
The story I've heard is that he left the hotel room to get batteries at the nearby gas station. Then it hit. He was able to walk back to the hotel. He's told me that he remembers leaning against a semi trailer as he tried to walk back. People asked him if he was drunk. My dad was having a stroke and people were asking him if he was drunk.
I don't remember how long he was in the hospital in Minneapolis. It was too long. He came back to North Dakota for rehabilitation in Grand Forks at the Rehabilitation hospital. Luckily, I was going to school at UND at the time and I was able to see him everyday.
Now, 18 years later, he is back there. And due to a fricking winter storm, here I am - not with him.
What caused his stoke? Diabetes. F***ing diabetes. It was the first thing I thought of when Chase was diagnosed at the age of 2. STROKES. I really hate strokes. REALLY.
If you want to know why I am so passionate about finding a cure, this is why. I've seen first hand what diabetes can do to the human body. Thirteen years ago I remember hugging my dad goodnight before he had open heart surgery - yet another complication due to diabetes. I didn't know if that would be the last time I'd ever see him again.
What my dad has been through has made me the type 1 diabetes mom that I am today. Neurotic. Obsessive. Passionate. And, today, angry and sad.
My dad was a teacher. A kind of crazy-fun teacher (I had him for Shop and Graphic Arts, so I can say this). One day he brings up from storage an old winter coat that belonged to my sister. We ask him what he's doing. He says there is a girl in one of his classes that he's worried about. She needs a better winter coat.
That's my dad. Diabetes can take a lot from us, but it can't take who we are. It may affect the mechanics of your heart, but not the beauty of your heart.
There is no cure for diabetes, but I do believe in the power of prayer. Please pray for my dad for a quick and speedy recovery.
18 years ago. I remember it like yesterday. I was home from college. I was watching Days of Our Lives. The phone rang. It was my mom. She was in Minneapolis with my dad, sister and brother-in-law, John. Mom asked me what I was doing. I could tell something was wrong. Then she was gone. My sister came on the phone and said, "Susan, Dad...". Then she was gone. Then it was John. "Susan, your dad has had a stroke." I don't remember what he said after that.
What the hell? He's 49. What the hell?
The story I've heard is that he left the hotel room to get batteries at the nearby gas station. Then it hit. He was able to walk back to the hotel. He's told me that he remembers leaning against a semi trailer as he tried to walk back. People asked him if he was drunk. My dad was having a stroke and people were asking him if he was drunk.
I don't remember how long he was in the hospital in Minneapolis. It was too long. He came back to North Dakota for rehabilitation in Grand Forks at the Rehabilitation hospital. Luckily, I was going to school at UND at the time and I was able to see him everyday.
Now, 18 years later, he is back there. And due to a fricking winter storm, here I am - not with him.
What caused his stoke? Diabetes. F***ing diabetes. It was the first thing I thought of when Chase was diagnosed at the age of 2. STROKES. I really hate strokes. REALLY.
If you want to know why I am so passionate about finding a cure, this is why. I've seen first hand what diabetes can do to the human body. Thirteen years ago I remember hugging my dad goodnight before he had open heart surgery - yet another complication due to diabetes. I didn't know if that would be the last time I'd ever see him again.
What my dad has been through has made me the type 1 diabetes mom that I am today. Neurotic. Obsessive. Passionate. And, today, angry and sad.
My dad was a teacher. A kind of crazy-fun teacher (I had him for Shop and Graphic Arts, so I can say this). One day he brings up from storage an old winter coat that belonged to my sister. We ask him what he's doing. He says there is a girl in one of his classes that he's worried about. She needs a better winter coat.
That's my dad. Diabetes can take a lot from us, but it can't take who we are. It may affect the mechanics of your heart, but not the beauty of your heart.
There is no cure for diabetes, but I do believe in the power of prayer. Please pray for my dad for a quick and speedy recovery.
1 comment:
You aren't alone. You have us. You have your family. I hope you feel the support and love around you!
Post a Comment