I am not ready to say goodbye! God, it’s too early. I’m too young! He’s too young!

These are just some of the things running through my head the other night after getting the news that took my breath away. Hearing my Dad try and ease the blow, finally saying he’s got ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease. A disease I knew enough about to know it’s a horrible, horrendous disease that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. What’s even worse is that he believes that he’s had it for several years.

Today he had another test and it confirmed everything. They had planned for another test, but after the EMG there was no need.

As I talk to Dad over the phone, I notice he can say 3 or 4 words and then has to take a deep breath. This cycle repeats for the few minutes that we talk. I can tell he’s exhausted so I let him go. We leave it that we’ll talk again tomorrow.

I’m heart broken. I’m devastated. I feel helpless. 61 is too young to die. 38 is too young to lose a father!

I just don’t even know what to do. It’s a horrible feeling to know that nothing can be done. He’s too far gone. It can’t be reversed. The meds that are offered would only prolong his life a couple of months. He’s in pain. He’s petrified. He’s scared of losing control. He’s scared of having all his senses, but not being able to talk, walk, eat, or move. Just being trapped in a paralyzed body. That sounds terrifying.

He can hardly walk to the bathroom or hold his hands above his head. He says he can feel his muscles dying day by day. What an awful feeling. It is just so sad. I’m too young to lose my Dad and he’s too young to leave me.