when we got back to his place, i called my mom to see how my dad was doing. i figured he'd be better by today, but when i called, my mom was feeding him soup. feeding him. he wasn't able to get out of bed all weekend, and couldn't sit up because it hurt too much. it was bleeding again, and he just wasn't taking care of himself. anyhow, i felt really horrible and asked my mom what happened. she told me that he just wasn't eating right, which caused another infection in his system. in the background, i hear him yell at her, saying that she was wrong. he's in so much denial that it's what he eats that causes him to get sick and he always gets mad at her when all she does is try to watch out for him. she gets fed up too, then i heard her say, 'fine, eat whatever you want, see what it does to you' i wanted to yell at him and tell him to listen to her, but my mom said to just let him rest. so after i got off the phone, i was filled with anger and sadness. i blew up on parkin for no apparant reason and we argued for a bit, then i felt so bad. i just started bawling, told him what happened, and he just held me and wiped my tears. i don't know what i'd do without him.
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