An interesting thing happened the other day. I came home from my internship and the instant I came in the door I felt that something was not right. I didn't know why I felt that way but I knew something was off. I started calling for my dad because I knew he should be home and after a couple of calls he told me he was upstairs. When I went up there was blood all over the bathroom. He had cut his hand trying to install the air conditioner and it was bleeding pretty badly. It was a new air conditioner and when I asked him about it he said "I just wanted the house to be cool for you when you came home." It broke my heart that he had hurt himself trying to do something nice for me.
Now this injury, despite the disconcerting amount of blood, was not very serious. No stitches were needed and there isn't even really a scar now. But seeing my dad hurt was so disarming for me; I can't imagine what things must be like for him. He watched his wife die from an autoimmune disease and it must be horrible to watch his only child suffer from one.
My dad and I are very close and I love him with all my heart, and I know he feels the same about me. Watching him with just a cut on his hand was hard for me, imagine watching your daughter go through countless hospitalizations, surgeries and losing feeling in her legs...twice.
I hope to keep my dad around for a very long time.
3 comments:
I think for everyone with lupus, watching people watch you go through pain is really hard. For young people with lupus, we have to watch our parents watch us, and that is even harder. It's really touching that your dad wanted so badly to make you comfortable.
(I am a 20-year-old with lupus, but I was diagnosed when I was 9. My blog bounces between lupus and my publishing internship.)
It is really assuring to feel loved. It makes you stronger and love life more. I am really at awe with your father. He is so strong. It is truly the little things that makes us feel special.
I feel like you are telling my story in this post. I live with my Mom, Dad, and sis...but I'm definitely a Daddy's girl. I'm the youngest. I remember one day my dad was clearing out a spare bedroom so that I'd have a room to store my dialysis supplies. While moving things, he cut his hand on the antenna of an old radio. I heard him go "arrggghh!" from the other room and rushed right over. It broke my heart. It also makes me think of my "close calls" in the hospital and how hard it must have been for both him and my mom to witness it. It makes me feel kinda guilty sometimes even though I know I obviously didn't do it purposely
:(
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