My Hero, My Father

My father's life hasn't been easy. When I was just two years old, my father was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma! We moved to Nebraska where he received a bone marrow transplant.  Even out there at such a young age, I saw what fighting was really like. In Nebraska, my father fought for his life, his wife, his son, his parents, and especially for God.
Yes... My father fought for God. You might ask how? How can a man fight cancer and fight for God. God had allowed this disease to engulf my father's life, but God had also given him strength, so it would be unsatisfactory for him to give in and let the cancer do its work. My father won the battle with cancer, but he now fights a different battle. This battle is against his own body.
After the bone marrow transplant, my father's cancer was cured. He returned to being a dentist and enjoying what he had worked for during his 33 years on Earth. But then he started to notice some changes with his body. He realized his body was no longer the same. Had the cancer returned? Was he just paranoid? Was this part of remission? All the thoughts came to mind, but there was only one answer.
He had acquired Graft vs. Host disease.  In other words, his sister's white blood cells did not recognize and accept his body, so they began to do what they do best... Fighting off foreign substances. This substance was now my dad's body.
I honestly can't put into words what this disease is like, but I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. My father can no longer produce tears, so he has spent 18 years dropping eye drops into his eyes every 45 minutes.  Next, he has no saliva... NONE! He carries around a bottle of water everywhere so he can keep his mouth as moist as possible.  Since saliva helps the teeth stay healthy, his teeth have begun to decay.  Ironic how a man known for fixing mouths can't do a thing about his own.  Thirdly, he has about 20% lung capacity.  The GVHD has attacked his breathing.  My father can't walk more than 50 yards withing being completely out of breath.  My father was an All Star athlete playing three sports in high school, continuing basketball for a year in college, then pursuing his dental dreams while hoisting many intramural trophies.  He was an athlete.  Now he sits in a wheelchair during long walking events like the airport, or any long walk he knows he can't handle. The last thing I will share will be what this disease has done to my father's feet. It will be hard to put into words, but I'll try.
His feet ankles and lower calves are destroyed past repair. The GVHD hit them hard.  First, they began getting more and more swollen until they started to blister.  After the blisters started, the swelling subsided but the blisters kept popping up.  He now can't wiggle his toes.  The blisters are so bad that his Achilles tendon is exposed through his "skin." His toenails are gone and painful bone chips form to try and close the wound since a scab never fully heals.  Every night for 18 years my father has spent two hours wrapping his feet to keep them moist and usable.  Without this grooming, his feet would have been unusable and would have needed to be amputated.  In total, my dad had spent a total of 545 days taking care of just his feet... That means if he started taking care of his feet today, he wouldn't get up for a year and a half.
But still, the words I have used don't do the condition justice.  I have watched my father fight through excruciating pain for years without one complaint. He fights to see me play another game. He fights because he vowed to be there for my mother. He fights because God wakes him up every morning. I have a responsibility to God and so do all of us.
Until the day God doesn't wake me up, I will fight to become a better person, better player, better son, and better man of God.  That is our duty. That is the duty my father displays. In 6,570 days, my father has never given up.  He could blame God for his lifelong situation. He could even take his own life and end all the suffering. Would you blame him?
If my father's life had revolved around sports, money, health, cars, clothes. appearance, or anything worldly, he would be dead.  His world revolved around God.  My dad has honored God with every single eye drop, every water bottle, and with every piece of gauze wrapped around his foot.  One day, maybe tomorrow or maybe 30 years from now, God will call my father home.  He will enter God's kingdom with no water bottle, no eye drops, a full breath, and twinkly toes. I have no doubt my father will run through those gates. God will have gained an amazing angel that day, but until then...