My Dad and I had talked every day for the last few years, we weren't always close but became so about four or more years ago.
In November of last year he became ill, his lungs started filling up with fluid and no one could figure out why. He was going to get them drained every other week and then every week. Eventually he ended up in one hospital that couldn't find out what was wrong, so instead of continuing to run tests, they sent him home.
The next day, March 11th, he called me.He asked if i was going anywhere that day, which i wasn't and he said ok never mind. I asked what he needed. He asked if i would bring him some diet 7 up as he was not feeling well. So i got my daughter out of bed, stopped and got him 7 up and got my daughter and I breakfast and went over there. I knew he was sick, he always played it off like it was no big deal and he was going to be ok. this was the first time since he had started having problems that i had seen him like this. He was having a hard time breathing, he couldn't keep anything down.
As the day progressed he got weaker, kept throwing up or dry heaving, I got ahold of my sister who got a hold of my step sister who is a nurse. By the time she and my step sister got there, my dad was barely conscious. We called an ambulance and took him to the ER.
His blood sugar was 759, on top of everything else, my dad was diabetic, he was in diabetic keeto acidosis (i know that's not spelled right). They were going to admit him to the ICU. As we reached the waiting room for the ICU, they called a code blue. None of us thought that it was dad because he wasn't up there yet.
A few minutes later this man (who was a chaplan) and a nurse came out. The nurse was crying..I didn't really know what was going on, I just saw everyone's reactions and heard the words "he coded". I lost it. I couldn't breathe, i had to get away. I walked through the ICU just losing my mind. My sister came and sat with me, I told her " i killed him. I sat with him all day and saw him get worse and worse and did nothing" She was crying telling me not to do that to myself.
A few minutes later i went back over with everyone else waiting to hear from the doctors because they were working on him. He was down for 25 minutes when they were finally able to bring him back.
He was in that hospital for two weeks before they transferred him to a different hospital that was an hour and a half away. Up there we found out that his kidneys weren't working right, his bowels quit working. He also had multiple myaloma, a rare bone cancer and cardiac amaloidosis also rare. They wanted to treat him, but it wouldn't fix any of his other problems. He cried as he told us he couldn't do it anymore, he wanted to go home to die so he could see his grand children. So after two weeks there, he came home with hospice.
He came home on April 5, April 6th he started getting really bad again. We were all there. I sat beside him all night, gave him his morphine so he wouldn't be in pain. Held his hand, told him i loved him.
In the morning, i ran to go get milk for my daughter, as i was driving back to my dad's house, my sister calls and asks where i am. I said, he's gone isn't he? She told me i needed to get there. and i said is he gone and she said yes.

He's been gone for almost 4 months. I visited his grave site every day up until this week. I tried to cut back because I don't know. No matter what i do i feel guilty. I know he wouldn't want me doing this to myself but i can't help it. I feel like i should be miserable, he's my freaking dad and he's gone. I should be sad all the time? I don't know if i'm dealing with this right or dealing with it at all.

i feel like I'm standing still and the world is buzzing around me..