Pulmonary Fibrosis

Hi, my name is Grace Medford, and this is my dad’s story. Almost 3 years ago my dad lost the battle against pulmonary fibrosis. For those of you who don’t know what pulmonary fibrosis is, it is a respiratory disease in which scars are formed in the lung tissue. The walls of the lungs begin to thicken and it makes it hard to breath and is fatal. I was 12 years old and in 6th grade when I came from school to my dad having to look me in the eyes and tell me he had an incurable disease. My dad fought this disease with all he had in him, but there was nothing more he could do. I remember it like it all happened in fast forward, one day he couldn’t walk up the stairs, then and he was on an oxygen tank and then before I knew it he was sent to IU Hospital where he stayed the next 6 months. The first time I visited my dad in the hospital was the first time I heard the words “pulmonary fibrosis”, my dad wouldn’t tell any of us kids what he had because he didn’t want to scare any of us, but I never thought any of this could actually be happening. The doctors told me what was happening to my dad and I remember my whole entire body going numb, not knowing what to say or how to feel, just numb. My dad stayed at the hospital for the next couple months, this just became the usual, I went to Indy every weekend to see my dad but it slowly got harder and harder. My dad was getting sicker and sicker, skinner and skinner, and less hopeful with every visit. It was getting absolutely devastating to see my father that weak and I couldn’t do a thing to help. Then it all changed, one day February 14th, Valentine’s Day I got a call from my dad hearing the words “they found a pair of lungs for me” once again my whole entire body went numb, not a bad numb but a so overly filled with joy I can’t even express it all kind of numb. The doctors had just found a healthy pair of lungs, which meant that they could proceed and give a lung transplant to my dad. I remember him having the biggest smile on his face when I made it to the hospital, for that moment I didn’t see sickness, I didn’t see weak I saw my dad and only my dad. After his lung transplant everything was amazing, he was able to walk about without an oxygen tank for the first time in months, he was himself again and we all were so happy and thankful. On April 13th 2015 my dad was even released from the hospital! We got to take my dad home! After so long of waiting my dad was home and he was my dad again. A few months later my dad began to feel short of breath again, but he brushed it off as nothing to the kids because he didn’t want us to worry. After a few visits to the hospital, I came home from school to having to sit down for a talk. My dad sat me down and had to tell me this “my immune system is rejecting my new lungs, there’s nothing I or the doctors can do now and I only have 2 months to live.” This time my body didn’t go numb, tears started streaming down my face in disbelief that this was real. That this whole entire 6 month journey couldn’t have actually happened and I just couldn’t wrap my mind around that fact that dad wasn’t going to be here after 2 months. In constant denial mad disbelief, I still remember the exact moment I came to realization with it. It was just me and my dad who were home and a “at home nurse” came to check up on him because he did not want his last days to be in a hospital. I was watching tv as the nurse was going over all the procedures, asking him questions you would expect but I was just sitting there listening to everything and my heart absolutely breaking. When the nurse asked my dad if he were to die at hospice (the system he worked with rather than going to the hospital) would he want them to try to revive him and he said no. My whole body felt like it shattered, I realize now why he made that decision but at the time it felt like he had given up, given up on me, my brother, my family and even himself. I remember being so angry and frustrated and sad that he had given up but how else was I supposed to feel. I just sat and cried into my dads arms for what felt like hours on end because I already missed what was right in front of me. About a week later we had pictures taken, it was one of the best days I remember, the whole family was there, it was a gorgeous day and my dad was doing so good it was unbelievable. He even took a picture standing up without his oxygen it was incredible and it gave me a new sense of hope. My dad had tucked my in for 12 years straight and even with him being sick, he did not miss one single night. My dad tucked me and my siblings into bed where we all fell asleep in peace. It felt like I had just closed my eyes when I was woken up to ambulances lights in my window and man running down stairs. I just was woken up and was confused about the whole situation when I saw them put my dad on a stretcher and take him away. The first thing I did was turn to my brother my hug him because we both knew what was about to happen. We followed the men to the hospital where my dad was put into the ER. They put me and my family into a room close to his because only a few could go in at a time. I went in to go see my dad, little did I know this would be the last time. My dad was basically unconscious and wasn’t able to move, tubes running everywhere and him not able to breath he still grabbed my hand, took off his oxygen and looked at me with the sweetest and purest look, he looked straight into my eyes and said “I love you.” That was all he could get out and it brought him so much pain but he still made sure that was the last thing I heard from him. I began to cry again and was laying on my aunts lap when I heard one of them say they didn’t think he was going to live much longer. One thing I regret the most to this day and I hate myself for is leaving, it was so hard for me to sit there and watch God take my dad home. I was so scared of what was going to happen I went home to my mom’s and didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, she woke me up in the morning telling me that daddy had passed away this morning. I felt numb again, but more numb than I did any of those times. I felt like this numbness physically hurt, and I could use any part of me. I couldn’t take I couldn’t move I just sat there, in such denial. On October 19th, 2015 God took Home the sweetest angel to walk this planet. 3 years later I hope to carry on my dad’s memory and help to find a cure for pulmonary fibrosis. I don’t want any other person, family, daughter, son, brother, mother or anyone to go through what we all did. All funds will be going to Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation or PFF. I really want to make a difference and help find a cure, because one lost family member, is one to many. In memory of Bryan E. Medford, I love you and miss you daddy, I hope I’m making you proud.