Fate

Aug. 6...I've been dreading this date for a while. This month in actuality. It is going to be a really difficult month for me. My emotions are very up and down. My Dad passed away one year ago on Aug. 30, but this month haunts my memories nearly every day. The hours at the hospital, the sleepless nights, the anguish, and the confusion. Many people who have lost a parent or a close loved one kind of haze over the details, and it becomes a haze. I live those details everyday as if they happened only yesterday.

I do not regret anything because it has brought me to where I am today, and for that, I would change nothing. That is not to say that I am not saddened by the way some things transpired, but everything has a rhyme and a reason.

Anyway back to the date...Aug. 6. I had not been home much before this because I was studying hardcore for the MCAT. I took it Aug. 5 then drove to Chicago to see Midwestern. That was fun, but then I drove Mike to Six Flags and then home and because I hit rush hour it took me like 4 hours to get home. I was so tired when I got home that I just went to sleep. I barely saw my Mom or my Dad. The next morning I took my Dad to go see a kidney specialist. I was planning on giving him my kidney because I was a match. We were just doing some final tests to get it all ready.

We were driving home, and my Dad wanted a Coke Slurpee. He had not had one for years, and this is the first time in memory since he got sick that I remember him asking for one. Mom kept yelling no because of the sugar content, but the way my Dad asked and looked at me I could not refuse. He had his Slurpee, and I could see how happy it made him. While driving back Home, we started talking about life support. For the past few years, my Dad said very little, but today he was talking. He told me that he did not want to be on life support, and to make sure to pull the plug. I believe I was fated to have this conversation. I dropped my parents off, said goodbye and headed to Indianapolis. That was the last talk that I would ever have with my Dad.

I went back to school and started RA Training the next day. Pretty stressful time, and there were a few situations that happened. Aug. 16 at 11PM, I was reading some of my friends palms. Those of you that know me know that I can read palms pretty well and a lot of people ask me to do it. They asked me that day if I could read my own hand. I said it was bad luck, but I was suaded enough to take a look. When looking at my life-line, I saw that a catastrophe was on its way. That a death was looming and that something bad was going to happen really soon. Ten minutes later my Mom called and said my Dad had gone into cardiac arrest, but he was stablized. He was even joking around. Mom did not want me to come home saying everything was fine, but I knew that was just the Mom in her being protective.

Ultimately, I decided that I would stay in Indy because I had so many meetings and such to do. I had USG meetings, classes starting in a few days, Housing move-in, IPM training, WoWfest, JagCorps, and so much more. Not saying I was not upset, but I thought everything would be fine. I thought that there was nothing to worry about. Looking back now I think I was selfishly not wanting to mess up my schedule. I was already stressed to the max and worried about getting everything done. I thought that if I could finish this week, then I would be able to go home.

Later that night, my Dad had kept buzzing to have the nurse help him use the restroom. He apparently had been trying for 10 minutes, but the damn nurses were not doing their job and did not come. He got out of bed to go to the restroom himself. While walking he fell, went into cardiac arrest again, and lost oxygen to his brain. He would never wake up again.

From August 17 - 26, we tried everything we could. At the hospital for 12+ hours everyday. Struggling to hold on to some semblance of hope. Tensions were high, everyone blaming the other. It was then that I remembered what my Dad had told me just those two short weeks earlier. People did not want to give up, but I knew this is what my Dad wanted. This is what was right. On August 26, we pulled the plug, and we put him in a hospice, waiting for his last breath to pass. For four days, his lungs gasped for air until his body let go on August 30. The funeral was held 3 days later on Sept. 2.

It was almost as if my Dad knew his time was up. The Slurpee, the talk, so many other signs in those last few weeks. I miss him everyday. Everyone keeps saying it is OK that I did not get into medical school, but the thing that bothers me the most is that I wanted to partly for my Dad. I wanted to show him that he raised a great son and that I made him proud and accomplished what he wanted as well. I want to be a doctor and follow in his footsteps, made the impact that he made. I know this is my path, and I will be resilient in it. I have other strengths which may make me suited even better for something else, but I will bring those strengths to my career as a doctor. I will make you proud Dad.

This month will be pretty difficult, but I know I have to be strong for my family. I know I have to take my Dad's place. A King is forbidden to cry because one tear from him will raise 1,000 tears from his people. I know too, that one tear from me shall raise the tears of all my family members.

I will be strong...I am strong.