My dad was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes mellitus when he was about 30 years old (I wasn't even close to existing). He told me that when doctors told him what he was suffering he couldn't believe it (he was in denial) and erroneously decided to ignore it for a couple of years. When he began to feel a little bad he went back to the doctor and here if he came to his senses and started taking the corresponding medications.
6 years passed and I was born (my brother had already been born about 5 years ago xD); My dad told me that when I was born they decided to combine my mother's name and his, whose result was: Oswaldo + Mary = Osmary (but due to an error in my birth certificate I was like Osmari with this "I" haha).
Since I can remember I was always the girl in his eyes, my dad talked a lot with me, he told me about his anecdotes at the university, why he liked chemistry so much (he graduated as a chemical engineer), he instructed me on how important it was culminate a career (which we like), of all the sacrifices he had to make in order to graduate and be with my mom, and many more things about his life before I was born.
As I grew older, my relationship with my dad was getting stronger; They say (psychology) that normally girls strengthen closer ties with fathers and boys with mothers, in my case it was no exception.
Years went by and the disease gradually became more and more noticeable, he lost his job at a company because of it, and had to take the closest and possible job he had: to be a professor of chemistry.
It should be noted that my dad had a very strong character, but also a good sense of humor (in his own way).
At first he did not like it very much because he was not used to dealing with such young boys (from high school), but little by little he was grabbing affection for teaching; sometimes I helped him to pass the notes, and to review exams, something with which I laughed a lot because sometimes they wrote barbarities hahaha.
In 2010 my father suffered a fall while painting the apartment where we live, the fall resulted in a fractured “ankle” which left permanent sequelae (due to bad praxis) in the way he walked and his resistance to it ( I could not walk for a long time or long journeys).
In 2012 he went to a dental office and was found a kind of tumor in a gum, they performed several diagnostic methods and it was concluded that it was a benign tumor but had to undergo surgery to remove it.
Those times were difficult because I was just beginning the 1st semester of the career and the surgery had to be performed in Caracas (the capital) because here where we live the only surgeon (maxillofacial) of that type did not have the necessary implements.
I had to stay a month alone at home (for classes) while my mother and brother accompanied my father in the surgery.
There something happened that we had not anticipated, my dad went into renal failure (due to the drugs that were placed and logically also a consequence of diabetes) and had to perform several hemodialysis sessions, in fact when he returned to our city he had to continue performing these sessions, because their kidneys could not by themselves.
This for my dad was a terrible blow because he was always a very independent person, but the worst had not yet begun, the worst began half a year later when he began to lose his sight (another consequence of chronic diabetes-retinal detachment).
My dad felt very frustrated because he needed our help for almost everything, he felt depressed, but we as we could support him and help him in whatever he needed, he still had good days and very bad days (emotionally).
For my part I felt very bad, seeing him like that broke my heart (which I didn't show him so as not to worry him), I wanted to heal him, I wanted him to be well.
We took him religiously to his hemodialysis sessions every Monday, Wednesday and Friday (interdiary), we made him the food he should eat (a special diet), although sometimes we would consent to something different to make him happy, we also took care that he didn't know I exceeded the amount of liquids he consumed (at this stage of the disease he could not consume a lot of liquids because that decompensated him) which was an arduous battle because my dad was very witty.
In 2015, I think it was a Monday (horrible day) day my dad was in a bad mood and wanted to drink water, my mom was cooking, I was bathing and my brother was asleep, then he started calling us, not receiving Quick response stopped, he walked a little (he could not keep his balance very well alone), he tripped and fell. It was horrible, the leg was at an abnormal angle and when I heard the scream I ran out of the bathroom, seeing it right away I realized that he had a fracture (at the level of the thigh-femur).
We called an ambulance which took about 1 hour to arrive, and we took it to the hospital.
Due to the amount of basic illnesses my father had, treating him was a very complex challenge; if they put plaster on it, it could cause a huge amount of complications; if they operated it could die in the operating room or also present a huge amount of complications.
In the end he wanted to have surgery because recovery was supposed to be faster, he was not going to be in bed for so long (he hated that) and it would be easier for him and for us (because we had to take him to hemodialysis sessions , without that I could not live). After much thought and talking with a family-known traumatologist, we decided on surgery.
First he was hospitalized for a month under great observation because they had to keep all values as stable as possible. We took turns spending the nights with him. When he touched me I took the books or the material to study when he fell asleep, I remember that he was very strong and I was scared of a subject (neuroanatomy), but he always told me: “Quiet that you will pass it, you are very smart and you can with all that. ”
After the month he entered the operating room of a clinic here, we were very scared but just before entering he told us: "everything will be fine, calm down, see you later".
When leaving the surgery the doctor told us that everything had gone well, in fact my dad was aware (because they did not use general anesthesia, you could not because of his situation), he told us that it did not hurt or anything. We were "happy".
At night he began to hurt, and he was bleeding from the holes where the tutor was inserted (osteosynthesis material that was placed to fix the fracture), we told the doctor on call and he told us it was normal, he was given a pain reliever And so he spent the night, in pain and bleeding.
In the end we fell asleep (my mom, my dad and I) about 3:00 am. When we woke up in the morning, we were surprised by the amount of blood that my father had lost, we called the doctor immediately, my father was unaware and had some laboratory tests. When the results arrived, my dad had hemoglobin at 5 (normal in men aged 13.8 to 16 or so), he needed a blood transfusion and he also needed the hemodialysis session because he was uremic (the toxic substances that the machine had hemodialysis cleansed of his blood were in high concentrations).
It was a disaster, we could not donate blood because a month before we had donated (and many people here do not like to donate :() and we only had my brother available. An uncle arrived and they went to donate that blood, they transfused him, but my dad was not getting better, in fact he was getting worse, he could not speak, he was making noisy noises, he was transferred to the nearest hemodialysis unit (the one in the same clinic, which I admit after this experience I hate, all the equipment is very archaic and also brings me bad memories), he was subjected to a hemodialysis session, but he still did not improve, it got worse and worse.
By night my brother had gone home to look for clothes and food. My mom and I stayed, we were very scared because my dad started to breathe strangely, slowly and irregularly (at that time I didn't know that it was from such a bad prognosis). After a while I told my mother that I would go outside to get some fresh air, but really what I wanted was to talk to the doctor on call.
When I found him I greeted him and told him about my dad's situation, seeing the concern in my words the doctor went to see him.
After seeing him, he left the room and told me to leave too, that he wanted to talk to me. He became serious and asked me:
-Doctor: Do you study medicine?
-Yo: yes, why?
-Medical: I realized how you told me about your dad, look, as my future colleague I will talk to you with the truth, your dad is really bad, I honestly do not think I can resist much, you should be by his side as much as you can .
-Yo: Ok doctor, thanks for your honesty, I warn you of any eventuality.
I entered the room and my mother immediately asked me what the doctor had told me, but I didn't tell him that, I told him that he had told me to tell him anything.
2 hours later, my dad stopped breathing in front of us. My mother went into crisis and began to cry, I could, as I could, armed myself with courage and called the doctor, then called my brother, I remember perfectly what I said: "Dad died, I need you to come help me."
Family members (my dad's brothers) arrived at the clinic, and since my mother was very bad I had to go to the house to look for the clothes that we would put on my dad because from there we were going to take him to the funeral home for the respective arrangements .
I arrived at my house, I was alone, I chose a gray suit that Dad liked a lot, I lay on his bed, grabbed his pillow, hugged her and began to cry.
It was a few years in the fight against his illness, my dad lost many things and suffered a lot, at least he was with his family until his last days and I know with all my heart that we gave him all the possible love.
Currently I always remember it, it is inevitable, much of what I am is thanks to him, I have his character and his desire to be someone in life, I have much of his being embodied in me. One of the biggest reasons why I want to graduate is because of him, so wherever he is he feels very proud of me.
Months after losing my father someone told me:
"Losing a loved one never stops hurting, what happens is that over time we get used to living with that pain, we are all destined to die sooner or later and it is something we have to deal with daily, and more in the race you are taking ”.
Wise words that have helped me day by day.
I know it's a very long post, but if you really got here, thank you so much for giving me part of your time💛.
We are reading us!
