Despite our increased efforts to care for out father, I arrived today at his place to get a really nasty surprise. Confused, naked and unable to move, I found my father laying on the floor, near to tears as I barged in to his rescue. After calling in help to get him up sitting, we had him sent away to the emergency yet again.
I truly can’t imagine how scared, helpless and upset he must of felt, laying there for hours and unable to call for help. That thought alone makes even me crumble, and I cant help but to blame myself for not getting there earlier. It was a nightmare to see him there, it is a nightmare to think of what could have happened to him and it is a nightmare that theres so little I can do to help him. But nothing of that can be compared to what he must of felt, and how he surely will feel when he comes home again, knowing hes yet again alone and anything could happen to him, leaving him helpless and perhaps even badly injured, unable to call for help.
I can only hope that he has become a bit more humble towards his illness, and that he will be more open to the possibilities of getting help. Not even as his family, I’m allowed to do anything without his permission – if he doesn’t want help, I can’t do anything, even if its only for his own best.