My Life At The Veterans ' Home Essay

1423 WordsDec 5, 20166 Pages
I vividly remember that chilly night in March as I walked out of Fifer, the building my father now calls home, for the first time. I had goosebumps, but they were not from the cold I felt hit my skin. Instead, they were from the sickness in my stomach. As I got in the car, I began to cry and had to stop myself from running back inside. My entire world had turned upside-down. How could I go home without my father? How could I leave him in a nursing home, a place where he was too young and mentally fit to be confined? I had to fight the feeling that he didn’t belong. I had to remind myself of why he chose to be there, and I hated it. During my junior year of high school, my father made the difficult decision to go live at the Veterans’ Home. For thirty-five years he had lived with Multiple Sclerosis, a debilitating disease characterized by the destruction of the myelin sheath insulating the nerve cells. This degradation affects all movement by slowing or altogether halting nerve impulses to the muscles. As a result, my father became permanently wheelchair-bound around the time I started kindergarten. By my junior year of high school, he struggled with even simple tasks such as writing, dressing, grooming, and eating. It reached the point where he could no longer live at home without round-the-clock care. This revelation was earth-shattering but not a shock. It was yet another natural progression of the disease. Still, this did not prepare me for the emotions I experienced.

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