My father is my foundation. He grounds me when I am upset or stressed by showing me that the problems I face are (almost) never unsolvable. However, my once solid foundation crumbled four years ago.
Before my foundation was snagged out from under me, my dad went to his doctor for an annual physical. Nothing seemed to be wrong until I was entering a blindingly white, pungently sterile hospital four months later. The blur of nurses scrambling from patient to patient, eerie beeping of heart rate monitors, and shock of seeing my foundation lying on a gurney in a paper hospital gown made me want to collapse. For three weeks, my foundation was jack-hammered, crushed into dust, and blown away inch by inch, leaving me battered and unable to stand
Before my foundation was snagged out from under me, my dad went to his doctor for an annual physical. Nothing seemed to be wrong until I was entering a blindingly white, pungently sterile hospital four months later. The blur of nurses scrambling from patient to patient, eerie beeping of heart rate monitors, and shock of seeing my foundation lying on a gurney in a paper hospital gown made me want to collapse. For three weeks, my foundation was jack-hammered, crushed into dust, and blown away inch by inch, leaving me battered and unable to stand