It's Not a Joke This Time

Hi. 

I really don't know why I woke wanting to post a bit of my life here. Facebook is Fake book and I am tired of writing poetry. 

So here goes. I really don't expect a response. 

Over 20 years ago my stepfather was exposed to to toxic chemicals in his job. He and his coworkers almost died. His liver was affected to the point of almost instant necrosis. The doctors at Stanford Medical decided exploratory surgery would be his best option. It ended up becoming experimental surgery as his liver was so toxic it was literally killing him. So the doctors removed all organs that would bipas the liver. Meaning they removed his colon, his small intestine, half his large intestine turns his food into bile of which he drains the waste from an internal colostomy through a stomach on his left side. All this must sound very strange. 

This is what I wanted to share. My dad did not lay down to die when recovering from all this surgery. It gave him meaning and purpose to live. He had always wanted a family, so he married my mom, his best friend, taking on two troubled daughters who were not even in their teens yet. Wow! He began to get stronger by involving himself in every sport possible. From kayaking to mountain bike riding, snowboarding, and finally tennis. 

I write here today to send the message that even when death rips out your insides and lurks around every morning... There is always the strength to go on and on. He told me once he would stay strong with his family and his sense of humor. 

Shall I ruin this amazing story by informing you that after 20 years my dads liver has become his worst enemy. It is time now for him to finally rest. Though not dead, lying prone is just as traumatizing. 

I am doing OK. If I dared to feel I would not survive. I am strong for my mother. Who cares for me in my worst depression. I take care of her now. I make a point to see my dad everyday, no matter how yellow the jaundice has made him. 

I want to remember his laughter.