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Maybe surgery wasn't a good idea
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Back in December 1981 -- I know because it was my last year of college -- I came home from school to find my dad literally dying.

I'd been home at Thanksgiving, and he was bad thing. He and I had to crawl under the house and unstop the sink. He was worse when I got home from Winter Break.

I think it was the very next day -- he had me drive him to the doctor's office to have an upper GI. It almost killed him. I wanted to drive him to an ER afterwards and he wouldn't let me. Why a 22 year old woman lets her father tell her what to do is beyond me, especially ER decisions, but oh well.

They got him in the hospital pretty quickly after that anyway and it was that Christmas he was diagnosed with congestive heart disease and told to put his affairs in order. He went home with an oxygen machine and orders not to leave the house and not to let anyone in the house who might have any type of contagious disease.

It was pretty scary.

So when anyone wants to know why I obsess so much over diabetes -- well, the above is why. I know without a doubt that the barely treated diabetes he was diagnosed with at 42, let to that week.