So Saturday night I had my first patient... My dad... He tripped and crushed his kneecap and the severe pain caused him to go into shock. Needless to say if we had not called the paramedics for help he would have died. I am really fucked up about this....
Point blank... I have been the BIGGEST bitch to my dad... I have let his alcoholic condition be an excuse to not try very hard to help him quit. I had verbalized my blase attitude about his impending death via Hep C. I had already prepared myself (so I thought) for his dying. I was wrong and in being wrong I learned a valuable lesson. No matter how selfish I perceive him to be, no matter how many times he pisses me off because he drank WAY too much, no matter how much it hurts that he won't quit drinking and that because of alcohol he hasn't been an active participant in my life, NO MATTER WHAT... he is my dad and I love him. And I don't want him to die...
I know this was hard for you to write - you have such a history with your dad. And I know that you love him, even though you don't like his actions. I'm so thankful you were there, so very thankful that you're a good person and that you could help him.
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