"I'll make the most it, I'm an extraordinary machine"
Oh, man.
Right now, I'm just so upset, I'm almost crying.
First off, a dear, dear, dear friend of mine's father is in the hospital, and I'll leave it at that. I'm praying, praying that he gets better. This friend is so special, unique, sweet, intelligent, really one of a kind. He's been so wonderful to me for the past five years, and anyone that kind has to have amazing, first class parents. I wish that I could just hug him, his mother, and his father to make everything better. I want to make everything better for him. Everything, even the little things, or the things that seem little in comparison. *hugs* I love you, you know that, right? I am praying so hard, for you, for your father, for your mother. I have been since I found out.
Secondly, *my* father is falling to pieces. I probably wrote about his torn rotator cuff cup thing. Cuff, cup, same dif. And probably his RA. But maybe that was in the last lj. I don't know. As far as the shoulder, it's recovering well, and is infact doing better than his other shoulder. We're convinced he did the same thing, maybe even at the same time, to that shoulder. God, when he's in so much pain, he's such a stubborn ass and won't go to the hospital. But tonight he actually went, he was in tears. Tears. I've only seen my father cry twice, once when he found out about his father's cancer spreading into his bones and brain, and once when we had everything taken away. My dad's been run over by a fucking motorcycle before and hasn't hurt this much. He broke his back and didn't even know it. He crashed a fourwheeler into a fucking pole(technically the kid he was trying to teach did, he was sitting behind him), and he wasn't in this much pain. He had to drag the damn kid home, then when he got home his brother asked him what the fuck happened, then checked him out, and sent him to the hospital with a fucked up knee that was so swollen it practically burst when they cut up the pantleg. He has a fake one now.
As far as my knowledge of rheumatoid arthritis, within seven years of the diagnosis, the patient is in a wheel chair. By next year, Dad will be using a cane. He's already limping, and always in so much pain, the hospital that he went to looked at what painkillers he'd already had in him, and told him that they couldn't give him anything else; the amount of Vicodin he's prescribed a day is 3,000mg Tylenol(equivelant).
Just the look on his face, or even when I couldn't see it, it just felt like someone was stabbing me in the heart.
The only thing stopping me from full-out-sobbing instead of a few tears right now is singing to my cd.
I hate the night time now. It used to be my armor, now it's what I'm fighting against. The day time, or even night when I'm with my cousins, just takes my mind off of everything bad happening.
Right now, I'm just so upset, I'm almost crying.
First off, a dear, dear, dear friend of mine's father is in the hospital, and I'll leave it at that. I'm praying, praying that he gets better. This friend is so special, unique, sweet, intelligent, really one of a kind. He's been so wonderful to me for the past five years, and anyone that kind has to have amazing, first class parents. I wish that I could just hug him, his mother, and his father to make everything better. I want to make everything better for him. Everything, even the little things, or the things that seem little in comparison. *hugs* I love you, you know that, right? I am praying so hard, for you, for your father, for your mother. I have been since I found out.
Secondly, *my* father is falling to pieces. I probably wrote about his torn rotator cuff cup thing. Cuff, cup, same dif. And probably his RA. But maybe that was in the last lj. I don't know. As far as the shoulder, it's recovering well, and is infact doing better than his other shoulder. We're convinced he did the same thing, maybe even at the same time, to that shoulder. God, when he's in so much pain, he's such a stubborn ass and won't go to the hospital. But tonight he actually went, he was in tears. Tears. I've only seen my father cry twice, once when he found out about his father's cancer spreading into his bones and brain, and once when we had everything taken away. My dad's been run over by a fucking motorcycle before and hasn't hurt this much. He broke his back and didn't even know it. He crashed a fourwheeler into a fucking pole(technically the kid he was trying to teach did, he was sitting behind him), and he wasn't in this much pain. He had to drag the damn kid home, then when he got home his brother asked him what the fuck happened, then checked him out, and sent him to the hospital with a fucked up knee that was so swollen it practically burst when they cut up the pantleg. He has a fake one now.
As far as my knowledge of rheumatoid arthritis, within seven years of the diagnosis, the patient is in a wheel chair. By next year, Dad will be using a cane. He's already limping, and always in so much pain, the hospital that he went to looked at what painkillers he'd already had in him, and told him that they couldn't give him anything else; the amount of Vicodin he's prescribed a day is 3,000mg Tylenol(equivelant).
Just the look on his face, or even when I couldn't see it, it just felt like someone was stabbing me in the heart.
The only thing stopping me from full-out-sobbing instead of a few tears right now is singing to my cd.
I hate the night time now. It used to be my armor, now it's what I'm fighting against. The day time, or even night when I'm with my cousins, just takes my mind off of everything bad happening.