Early morning on February 8, 2006 was the worst experience of my life. I thought that ny whole world had come to an end. A knock at the front door and the door bell rang of my house at four-thirty in the morning stood a policeman and a German Shepard. My mother, in a daze, answered the door, unsure as to what his purpose was for being at our door in the middle of the night. The policeman told her that my father had been rushed by ambulance to St. Raphael’s Hospital in New Haven from the Essex Clinic where he drove himself to earlier that morning at 2 AM.

I woke up that morning as I did any other morning; I got up, got dressed and walked downstairs to get something to eat before I had to leave for school. I walked down the hall past my parents bedroom to find my mother in a shaking panic. I had no idea what was going on so I calmly asked what was the matter. She told me about the policeman arriving at the door in the middle of the night to inform us about my dad. I was incredibly shocked and scared out of my mind. What? Was my dad okay? Why? Was he scared? Does anyone know what’s the matter with him? All of my questions couldn‘t be answered right away. We didn’t know anything about his condition or what really happened earlier that morning. All I could do was go to school and wait until I got home to see what was going on.

A few weeks prior to February 8, my dad was complaining constantly about his stomach. It was a pain he had never experienced before, and it wasn’t going away. He went to his normal doctor, and he was treated for the flu. The doctor didn’t bother to take a blood sample just to make sure. Little did we know, that was the biggest mistake in his life. He was on medication for the flu for about a week. My dad was not feeling any better as days had passed. He still had the pain. The pain was unbearable and he was never able to sit or lay still. In the middle of the night was when he decided to drive himself to the Essex Clinic for further treatment because he knew the medication he was taking was clearly not working. He got up, got dressed and shook my mom gently to wake her, “I’m driving myself to the clinic. I can‘t stand the pain any longer. Get the kids off to school in the morning. I’ll be fine, I love you.”

My father was in a induced coma for thirteen days. It turned out he had a rare blood infection called sepsis. There is little known about sepsis. The doctors were unsure as to how to treat him. They had to completely cut his stomach open. The infection had taken over his entire body. He was in critical condition and on life support. At that point, no one was sure that he was going to make it. My brothers, my sister and I continued going to school while my mother drove to St. Raphael’s Hospital everyday to be by his side. Everyday I prayed for my dad, I knew other people were too. I prayed that he would be strong enough to make it through this mess and make it home and come back to us. I was confused about all of this. I didn’t know how bad his condition was or that he might not make it. My dad is my best friend in the world. How was I going to grow up without him? I didn’t let anyone know about what was going on in my life at that time. I hated talking about it outside of my family. To this day, I don’t know why I didn’t show any emotion about how I was feeling at school or in front of my mom about my dad’s condition. No one knew how much sadness I was feeling inside. My dad was my main concern, and I didn’t want or expect anyone to comfort me.

He finally woke up two weeks later. It was a miracle. I called him at the hospital the day he woke up. I couldn’t wait to talk to him. It was the longest I had ever gone without seeing or talking to him. He sounded different, but I knew it was him. I went to visit him as soon as I was able too. When I saw him for the first time, it was like I’d never seen him before. He was about half his size and didn‘t have a clue as to what had happened to him. I didn’t care how different he looked, what he sounded like or even the ridiculous things he would say. It was my dad and most importantly, he was alive. I thank god everyday that he is here with us today. That time in my life was the hardest thing I have ever experienced. I knew for sure in the back of my mind it wasn‘t his time to go, and he knew it too.