Jon'lethia
Greenbelt, MD
It has been a 1 1/2 years since I lost my father to lung cancer that metastasized to his back, spine, and brain. He suffered a gran mal seizure that left him unconscious and he never woke up from that. I would like to think that he went peacefully in his sleep, but that would not be the truth. Before learning of his cancer, my father was in and out of the hospital with fluid on the lung, a collapsed lung, things of that nature. When the cancer diagnoses was made he had just been released from the hospital from having the fluid drained from his lung with a rather large needle. He didn't mind though. One will endure anything to be able to breath.
My son and I visited my father only weeks before his death. I was not prepared to see this thin man who constantly gasps for air. My father was a very handsome man who had been reduced to this frail creature who looked 15-20 years older than he was. He wanted so badly to play with my son, but finally the caretaker and I insisted that he rest and catch is breath. My father entertained my son with stories of fishing and told him that he would take him fishing one day. This saddened me as I knew that my father would never be able to experience that fishing trip with his grandson.
My father stopped smoking years prior to his diagnosis and death. Had he known the truth, he may have never started.
My father's sister stopped smoking my first year in college, back in 1993. I like to think that she had done so because all of the antismoking ads I would place around the house after learning about the harmful affects of cancer in third grade. Today I continue to advocate for truth® anti-smoking campaign. I'm expecting my Crazy World t-shirt in the mail any day now.
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