I Miss My Daddy

I was diagnosed with MS September of 2003.  I was able to continue to work with a few exacerbations, or relapses here and there.  An exacerbation is when your MS symptoms increase to a crippling stage.  This is when the oral prednisone comes in and the health care nurse comes to your house for what I call the "pit drip".  But, through the exacerbations or relapses I was still able to work and even excel at work.  I was the typical Type A personality. I was working, taking care of home, I felt like Super Mom.  Then, things changed. 

The year was 2006.  My health was going more down than up, but I was still functioning.  I was still working, I was having more relapses or exacerbations, but functioning. This all changed in March 2006.  We all noticed that my father was just not right, just not himself.  Yeah, he was still being Pop Pop doing all, being in all places all the time.  But, something was wrong.  He had a hacking, whet cough, he was losing weight, he was tired all the time. Just not...Daddy.  

We knew Daddy was really sick when he finally stated that he needed to be in someones hospital.  Mom took action.  That's when our lives began to change. Daddy was hospitalized, test ran and on April 29, 2006 the diagnosis came that he had terminal lung cancer. My whole world felt like it was spinning, collapsing, coming to an end. My foundation was broken.  My everything was leaving me, and it couldn't be stopped.  

I admit, I couldn't handle the diagnosis.  My exacerbations increased.  I was spending more time with home health nurses and taking prednisone than going to work.  My neurologist finally signed me out of work and my FMLA was approved.  But, Daddy got sicker, and so did my spirit and my will to fight MS. I didn't care anymore. 

Little did I know how little time we would have left with Daddy.  He was diagnosed in April 2006, and God took him home August 2006, just four months later.  My world had collapsed.  My Daddy was gone.  I know people say you go through the stages of grief and loss by Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, but I didn't.  I wasn't angry, I didn't bargain. I was just so sad, so depressed.  My MS took a turn for the worse, and I let it.  In my grief induced haze, I didn't want to be here.  In my grief, I figured my kids would be okay without me and my wish was just to be with my Daddy.  I didn't fight MS anymore, and MS became rampant.  I was have relapses once every three months.  Once every three months I was taking oral prednisone and on the IV for solumedrol.  I didn't care. It was easier to be gone than to be here and deal with the pain.  My MS diagnosis progressed from relapsing-remitting to secondary progressive. This is one stage down from the final stage of MS. But, I didn't care. I just missed my Daddy.

Yes, I prayed many nights not to wake up, and prayed that my children wouldn't be the ones who found me gone.  But, obviously, I still have things to do, things to say, children to raise. God refused to let me be selfish.  After five years, almost six years since Daddy has been gone, the relapses come maybe twice a year.  They are more controlled. The damage is permanent. My stage now is acceptance.  Acceptance that we have a new normal, acceptance that my Daddy isn't coming back, acceptance that my work here is not done, acceptance that the damage of my MS is permanent, the acceptance that I am not able to work, the acceptance that I am disabled.  But, acceptance, now that's something that comes in stages, and is still hard even today.  Will I ever get used to my new normal, no. But...I don't have a choice.