Daddy's Little Girl
I was always daddy's little girl. I still called my father "Daddy" well into my 20's. It's sort of a Kentucky thing, I guess. It never struck me as odd to do so.
He gave me life, gave me his name, and saved my life--literally--twice.
As adults, we have fought the bitterest of battles. I have never liked him as an adult. He is not the sort of man I'd ever want to be around. For the past 9 months, we haven't spoken a word. After my first wedding, which the family boycotted, I didn't speak to him for a year.
Today, I was told that he is dying. Suddenly, things change.
My mother called me while I was in the dentist's chair. I couldn't answer the call, but the static-obscured message said something about bad news. When she called me back, she told me that this was it. He had to go to the hospital last night, and he has been diagnosed with cirrhosis.
He was jaundiced. His blood pressure was 70/20, but his heart rate was 167. His upper abdomen was distended by four inches. His kidney function was high. He is anemic, and his oxygen was really low. The fluid in his abdomen has been pressing on his stomach, essentially giving him a gastric bypass: his stomach is so smashed that he cannot eat. He gets muscle cramps because his potassium is low, and he can barely lift his head.
This is something that kills you, painfully. He has opted not to try for a liver transplant, which is wise. He's been an alcoholic for as long as I have been alive. Getting an organ that other people really need and ruining it is just twisted.
I don't know how I feel about it. I'm waiting for him to see the specialist this week and get his biopsy, so I can find out what the prognosis is. He's 59 years old. That seems young, to me. Too young to be talking about this.
The worst part of all of this is that last Tuesday, he was fired from his job at the hospital where he has worked for 21 years. Just like that--no health insurance, no life insurance, no income. My mom is in a hurt way, and I don't have any way to help her. I wish I had my degree and a decent income, but I can't schedule my fathers health or illness any more than I can schedule snow in August.
I'm going to have to go up there. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I have to go. He's a jerk, but he's my daddy.