It brought tears to my eyes when the hospital staff clapped my Dad’s discharge from hospital. My Mum and I clung onto each side of the wheelchair as the porter wheeled Dad out. As we neared our house, all of our friends and neighbours had turned out to welcome Dad back, cheering our return.
It was a moment that Mum and I didn’t think would happen. The last two months were our private nightmares, each of us afraid to answer the phone, expecting the worst. But now, finally my Dad had come home.
Mum and I would never forgive ourselves, blaming his symptoms on man flu. It was Dad himself who had phoned the doctor in the end. I was surprised they even had his medical records, I don’t ever recall him seeing the Doctor. The ambulance had been at the door within twenty minutes. They took dad off leaving the two of us bewildered on the doorstep. I didn’t see my Dad again for twelve long weeks.
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