Today, I buried one of my best friends, my mentor, my father figure. His death was both expected and unexpected. He had been diagnosed with liver cancer a few months back, but was going for treatments to possibly make him healthy enough for a transplant. Then, a little over a week ago, the hammer dropped. He was taken to the hospital, thinking he merely had pneumonia. However what they found was much worse.
First off, they found that he had a buildup of ammonia in his body and it had settled around his brain, making him very disoriented. As bad as that sounds, it was treatable and it wasn't even the worst. Turns out, his cancer had spread like wildfire into his lungs and was untreatable.
I went to see him in the hospital last Monday. He was smiling and joking, like always. We talked about football and the race and just generally bullshitted. Despite his momentary lapses in coherence, he seemed fine and was looking forward to going back home after his treatment was over. They transferred him to another hospital that night to receive his treatments.
As I was leaving work Tuesday morning, I got the call from his wife to get to the hospital NOW. I was the first of many friends and family to come that day. He was agitated and kept pushing his oxygen mask off. They gave him a drug to calm him down, but that was pretty much it. He fell into unconsciousness and died later that evening, surrounded by many who loved him. He was a day under 2 months from his 55th birthday.
It was amazing how fast everything changed. He went from being a good candidate for a transplant (a few months ago) to having a year (a month ago) to 30 days (last Monday) to mere hours (last Tuesday).
As I said from the start, he was my friend, my mentor and my father figure. He was more of a dad to me in 18 years than my own father was my entire life. We had good times and bad times. But even at the end, he acknowledged me as one of his sons to the point that his wife and other sons had me listed in the obituary. He taught me what it meant to be an adult as well as what it truly meant to be a man. He taught me selflessness and prepared me for the time when I would be a family man myself.
He always had this saying: "What'll make ya mad will make ya glad". What that means is those you love the most are the ones that will piss you off in ways you never imagined. But when you put all that bullshit aside, it's the ones you love that will always make you happy. And that held very true for me and him. We would have arguments to the point where we'd be ready to start trading blows. But it never kept us from being close and the anger was always quickly replaced with more joking and bullshitting.
In closing, I ask all who read for just one thing. Don't feel sorrow for him. That wasn't his style and he wouldn't want that. And don't feel sorry for me. That's not my way either. Instead, embrace and love all those you hold near and dear to you. Make sure they always know how you feel and never let anger stand between you and them. What he said is so true. What'll make ya mad will make ya glad. And I hope that someday, I'll see him again and we can both be glad again.
First off, they found that he had a buildup of ammonia in his body and it had settled around his brain, making him very disoriented. As bad as that sounds, it was treatable and it wasn't even the worst. Turns out, his cancer had spread like wildfire into his lungs and was untreatable.
I went to see him in the hospital last Monday. He was smiling and joking, like always. We talked about football and the race and just generally bullshitted. Despite his momentary lapses in coherence, he seemed fine and was looking forward to going back home after his treatment was over. They transferred him to another hospital that night to receive his treatments.
As I was leaving work Tuesday morning, I got the call from his wife to get to the hospital NOW. I was the first of many friends and family to come that day. He was agitated and kept pushing his oxygen mask off. They gave him a drug to calm him down, but that was pretty much it. He fell into unconsciousness and died later that evening, surrounded by many who loved him. He was a day under 2 months from his 55th birthday.
It was amazing how fast everything changed. He went from being a good candidate for a transplant (a few months ago) to having a year (a month ago) to 30 days (last Monday) to mere hours (last Tuesday).
As I said from the start, he was my friend, my mentor and my father figure. He was more of a dad to me in 18 years than my own father was my entire life. We had good times and bad times. But even at the end, he acknowledged me as one of his sons to the point that his wife and other sons had me listed in the obituary. He taught me what it meant to be an adult as well as what it truly meant to be a man. He taught me selflessness and prepared me for the time when I would be a family man myself.
He always had this saying: "What'll make ya mad will make ya glad". What that means is those you love the most are the ones that will piss you off in ways you never imagined. But when you put all that bullshit aside, it's the ones you love that will always make you happy. And that held very true for me and him. We would have arguments to the point where we'd be ready to start trading blows. But it never kept us from being close and the anger was always quickly replaced with more joking and bullshitting.
In closing, I ask all who read for just one thing. Don't feel sorrow for him. That wasn't his style and he wouldn't want that. And don't feel sorry for me. That's not my way either. Instead, embrace and love all those you hold near and dear to you. Make sure they always know how you feel and never let anger stand between you and them. What he said is so true. What'll make ya mad will make ya glad. And I hope that someday, I'll see him again and we can both be glad again.
