It is funny how a bred and born U.S. Citizen who fought and probably almost died a few times for his country can't get medical help or at least be able to have good care and die in peace and comfort but an illegal alien can come into the U.S. and get full medical attention and make the tax payer pick up the tab for it.
I have literally seen a woman walk into a Port of Entry and squat right in front of everyone and have her baby right there so it could be a US citizen. You know who paid for the ambulance ride and medical attention in full? We all did. I have seen illegal aliens lie about being sick so that they could go to the hospital instead of going to jail right then and there. You know who paid for that visit? We all did. I have seen an illegal alien fall into a pit and had to be rescued. He had a broken leg and was dehydrated. He was taken to the hospital via ambulance and treated. Again we all paid for it. I have a thousand stories about this and it all ends the same. We pay for ALL medical bills on people who cross into this country illegally and do not belong here yet we can't help a US Citizen who is just wanting a peaceful and comfortable death.
I am sorry for your dad and hope that he passes with no pain or suffering. I will be praying for him, you and your family and our government. Sad things are taking place in this country.
Think about these things when you cast your vote for the future President this year.
Brian, my only advice is to relate to you what my familly went thru.
My Dad(6' 215 lbs 64 yr old) was diagnosed with stage 3 multiple myeloma, bones disintegrating and 2 vertebrae fractured. (During the year he was building my sisters house.)
Next day Mom had a massive coronary at church, DRT.
My sister moved in with Dad, took him to all his hospital visits ect. When the hospital wanted to keep him long term, she said no and as soon as possible would take him home. most he ever spent there was 6 days (chemo treatments and stem cell transplants). She took long term leave from work. Nursed him the best she could. After 9 months the writing was on the wall nothing worked, Mary Kay was convinced Dad would die at home. Hospice nurse made weekly visits. In confidence Dad told the nurse he didn't want to die at home because of the stress and pressure my sister was internalizing, he was thinking of her mental health.
When the time was near, Nurse talked Mary into letting Dad go to hospice center. Probably the best thing, they kept him pain free, were super caring and nice, allowed for many friends and family to visit one last time. Dad passed away 6 days after being admitted, holding my brothers hand, (who had flew in from across the country 3 hours earlier.) 1 year to the day of my moms wake. Dad weight about 135lbs and lost 4" of hieght at death.
If this is your case understand;
The most difficult part in the deterioration of a loved ones health, is realizing when the writing is on the wall. Accepting what you can not change, and being at peace with the outcome. When your ready bring your Dad home, give him a choice, and contact hospice, they are experts at counseling family for the transition.
Please no post for sympathy, this is Brian's thread, I only offer this as reflective advice to Brian. Now I'm being hesitant to even post this, but hear it goes.
Nothing wrong with sharing your experience Jim. Will probably help him in the long run. I would contact Hospice as well when the time comes Brian. They are super awesome. They took great care of my wifes grandfather.
There are so many people to thank and ... I read every post.
Jim, I ...
Like so many others can find some common ground in that story.
Korhil, and those who do speak out are labeled racist.
Cowboy... Thank you.
There are a few times in ones life that one can almost see God's intentions. Good things happen to us and bad. It seems that the bad things, if we can take the time to look, can be the best times we can actually see the hand of God. Let me explain.
A painful, and at times I thought a bad point in my life. I was injured severely on the job. Poor me, or so I thought. One year and several procedures into the process...
any way you get the point of that story.
This whole time, I have had every day to spend with my dad. I can say, that I took advantage of many of those days. We went everywhere together. I learned a lot about my dad in those days and very short years. We, like so many other sons and fathers, had a very rocky start. He being out of Bragg, you guys that have fathers like this know what it is like to have to grow up in this. Again, poor poor me. So I thought.
First I want to say I had no idea of what my dad did in the Military till I was 37, I am now 39. I still only know one detail, his job. I know nothing else and I have never asked. Okay back on point.
As boys who eventually grow into men we come to a realization, The Old Man isn't as dumb as we thought. In fact, the older we as young men get, the smarter our dads seem to get. Funny how that seems to work. Then one day, if we are really lucky and blessed...
Hang on, let me restate that last statement. If we slow down long enough to listen and watch God's hand, we can see.
boy, I will tell you what, those simple actions have such a profound meaning. Two seemingly small tasks, yet for many of us so hard to do.
Never in my wildest dreams, or had personally witnessed up to this point in my life, could I have told you that such a tragedy in ones own life could be turned into such a huge blessing.
After a year of surgery and rehab, for me, dads health started to fail. We had already had a great time getting to get to know each other, no doubt. But little did either of us know what the next days and months would bring. It seemed like dad and I were gone to the doctors daily. I can remember that day when I found out he had cancer. The doctor comes out and finds me, dad still in recovery after the colonoscopy, and tells me that my dad has cancer. At this point dad knows nothing. Dad and I get to meet in the recovery room, all the while I am expecting the doc to come in and tell him. No! Guess who got to tell him?
The next few days, dad and I are trying to siff through what to do. Dad had his wishes. No problem! Off to surgery.
A month later he has made up his mind that he finally likes the cancer doctor that they have sent him to, after about five other docs. Here we go, Chemo, finally. Lets advance to today, after several trips to countless doctors, ER's, the list goes on and on.
Anyway here we are, a few years later. After three shoulder surgeries and a back surgery and a father with colon cancer, lung cancer, liver cancer, surgeries, and chemo a father and son finally find each other.
You know what I learned or got a bit of insight into why dad is the way he is, today.
This is all I will say about this, for those of you who know, you will understand what I am talking about.
He has something inside him that refuses to lay down, refuse to wine, refuses to stop fighting, that demands to die with dignity, refuses to say poor me...
I say again...
I only hope I have the courage and honor that my dad has right now, when its my time to go.
Last edited by The Surgeon; 03-11-2012 at 04:47 AM.