Sunday Morning

I am on my way to church. I really like the church I go to. It’s not a bible thumping crazy bible belt thumping church like most are here in the south. Don’t get me wrong, the bible is an important part of this chuch…I live maybe a two-minute walk across the street from it and I always have a cigarette in hand on the way…I can be me.

My dad is still in the hospital. They took him from 100% on the ventilator to 60%. He is still knocked out. He did this to himself. He has smoked more cigarettes than anyone I have ever known. (update on me, no I have not quit yet). He only had 40% of his lung complicity available. I know about a year ago I wrote about him being in the hospital in a coma and so on. Well here he is again. The doctor told him last year if he continued to smoke he would be committing suicide. Well there he is, in the same hospital under the same doctor, out of touch with reality because he is heavily sedated.

My father and I were working on crafts for a craft show we were going to do. Well he is more fucking bipolar than my mom (which makes me very angry) and he was in his manic stage and hardly slept more than 30 hours in a fucking week. He smoked a whole cartin of cigarettes in four days and did not use a mask when he was working with the chemicals. On top of that the humidity from the hurricane engulfed this area most of that week so the result was Monday, my step-mom’s birthday, she took him to the er and now he resides on his questionable death-bed. He does not have pneumonia, he has yeast that grew in one lung. Because of his poor health and lac of lung capacity it hit him quickly…

Don’t get me wrong, I am freaked out of my mind. Finally I get to know my dad and now he might be gone as quickly as I have met him. I love him. He IS my father. He might be more like a friend but he is the best of friends. I am so angry with him about getting sick. My step-mom and I told him all week that he was going to get sick and that he NEEDED to get to be and ear right. He ignored it, knowing the consequences.

Monday I wanted to escape so badly. I really wanted to fucking drink. I didn’t. I didn’t tell anyone I wanted to drink. I know it would be like picking up a cigarette for my dad but for a moment, I just wanted to feel relief.


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