My father is selfless man.  One of the good guys, you know. Loves his family, loves his dog and will do absolutely anything for us.  He's the type of person who can make instant friends with anyone.  From the supermarket to the post office, to the pharmacy and the convenience store, everyone knows him and his dog.  They're charismatic and friendly and loving and for as long as I can remember he has always put others before himself.  When daddy and Winston are in town people flock to them.  The kids want to know when they're coming out to play.  They're enamored by his stories and his charm, he's an instant friend.  My father is a  member of the Shinnecock Indian Nation and a Retired NYC Police Officer and in the past few years my dad has been through a lot.   He has been plagued by type 2 diabetes which caused old injuries to flare up with a vengeance and take its toll on his body.  It has affected his mobility, his happiness and his ability to heal.  After adopting Winston, his "baby dog" as he calls him, things were moving forward; he lost a tremendous amount of weight and was feeling good and mobile and his medication was reduced.  Winston essentially saved his life.  

Three years ago my father had an accident.  As with many medical issues, medications can affect the body in various ways.  He didn't eat in time and fell down the stairs on his deck.  He hit his head so hard it caused bleeding around his brain.  Winston saved his life again by barking non-stop till someone came and was able to call for help.  He needed emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on his brain.  My dad is 6'3", I've never seen him look so small as he did, unconscious in that hospital bed.  My huge dad the handy man, the DIY-er, the selfless family man who before anything else makes sure his family is taken care of was lying there with a hole in his skull on the brink of death.   His surgery did go well, and he has recovered part of his life, but he is not out of the woods and now has a long road of recovery ahead of him.  His diet is constantly being reevaluated, his lifestyle, his self care. 

As expected with type two diabetes the healing process in an incredible and painful process.  The body just does not heal the way a normal person not plagued by diabetes heals.  His legs are in bad shape it is hard for him to walk and not being able to walk means not being able to take the dog out, not being able to exercise.  As per his doctors recommendation he was prescribed an antibiotic to help with clearing out infections in his deteriorating legs.  The antibiotic was way too strong and caused his naturally occurring flora in his gut (intestines) to die.  As a result his body went into sepsis.  My grandmother called me on a Wednesday morning a year and a half ago and told me not to worry and that my dad had sounded strange on the phone and said he wasn't feeling well.  We had no clue how bad things actually were.  Just two days before he was so alert so happy and so motivated he was up and able to move he was doing some minor work in the house and the next day he's comatose and in ICU with multi organ failure.  He had what is called Cdiff as a result of the lack of good bacteria in his gut from the prescribed medication.  Within a month of diagnosis, 1 in 11 people over age 65 died of a healthcare-associated C. diff infection.  My dad was 59.   C Diff causes your body to literally shut down, ESPECIALLY if your immune system is already compromised.  Recovery from last years traumatic experience was officially off the table and we had a new dire issue on our hands.  Once again I was watching my dad die.   Weeks went by and he was intubated and sedated and each day things we're getting worse.  Everyday a new organ failed and he eventually was put on dialysis to help clean his blood because his kidneys and liver had failed him.  His white blood cell count was literally at 10, which is basically non existent.  At that point we thought it was only a matter of time.  

Then weeks later we get notified that, by only Gods will I can image, his white blood cell count went from 10 to 1600 and we knew he was ready to fight.  After that everyday he got a little bit better.   They were able to reduce the amount of sedation and we could see him responding to our voices and our touch.  He was aware and making sure we knew he wasn't going anywhere.  Some how once again my crazy death baiting dad survived.  He truly is a miracle man.  There's nothing like holding your sisters hand and wondering how the heck any of us got to this point.  Being asked to make a decision on what to do if his heart fails.  No one wants to do that two times in two years for the same person.  It takes an impossible toll on everyone.  Everyone has to recover.  Imagine my grandmother watching her child die.

Since then he has had skin grafts to repair areas where his flesh literally started to die because of no white blood cells and a bug bite. He's been readmitted for multiple infections on his legs still.  We do not want to go back.  We want this long chapter of our lives to be over.  We want the money from his pension to go towards healthy food and nutrition, not medical bills.  

For my whole life the house my father calls home has been a work in progress.  It has been under construction for decades.  Before it was his house it was my grandfathers and my grandfather had a dream for it. A big dream spilling over with family and fun and babies and summers and holidays, weddings and new traditions.   My dad now exercises those same dreams for it as do I.  

Over the years an unfinished house becomes harder and harder to maintain.  Especially when funds are low and physical ability is limited and pride isn't swallowed.  My dad was determined to finish his fathers house himself as he's done for every house we've lived in.  He has had such pride and joy in doing the projects himself with the help of family and friends.  Now that hes older, we're all older, it is different and I think its hard for him to accept that he can't do those things anymore.  

The point of this Go Fund Me is to raise funds to completely finish the house my family has been dreaming of for three generations.  Its not cosmetic, everything needs to be completed, a total overhaul.   Foundation, roof, floors, walls, kitchen, bathrooms. Basement to BBQ, bathrooms to bed linens.  This house needs to be become a home.  I know its a long journey and its not going to happen overnight but now is the time.  My dad needs to come home to a home and he needs comfort to feel motivated to continue his recovery and continue moving forward.  This house needs to be a family home.  It needs to be a place for holidays and late night card games at the kitchen table.  It needs to smell like fresh cut grass and be breezy and bright and beautiful and warm.

I ask you to read this story and decide to help someone who needs it so bad. We are fighting for him everyday and want this for him before its too late. 

He needs to be able to go home to a home.