We went over my lab results this week, the Dr said my labs could not be any more perfect than they are and they clearly do not represent someone who was scared into thinking they were going to die without conventional medicine. We were able to find some very interesting root cause information that gives us a direction to go with treatment. I have an active Epstein Barr Virus going on in my body causing all kinds of problems inside me that we are going to treat with Ozone IV therapy. Information about that can be found here : https://wholehealthchicago.com/blog/2025/05/26/ozone-therapy-benefits for those interested in what it is.
My doctor has increased my Fenbendazole to 3 times a day instead of twice a day and that has made a significant difference in how well I feel. It feels like an added benefit to what I was already doing!
On a different note though as my life does not revolve around this cancer diagnosis I am rebelling against, I thought I needed to write about something else today, and that is my dad.
For those that don’t know, he passed away on February 8, 2026, but I wasn’t informed until February 12, after the funeral home director did some fantastic detective work. From my understanding there were people with him when he passed, people who knew me and knew how to get a hold of me but chose not to. I’m still trying to put the pieces together and wrap my head around all this as it’s quite painful.
Most people would have made a Facebook post about the death and shared the information about losing someone but I chose not to for a variety of reasons. The main one being that I was left out of his actual death, because it felt and still feels intentional on everyone’s part except mine.
It was a great reminder of my entire existence in this family and the lengths gone to keep secrets from each other. Mostly the whole thing reeks of my mother and the games she played with my father to keep his children out of his life and it worked. A handful of years ago she stood on his porch while he was out of earshot and proudly stated she has always been able to get him to do whatever she wanted, all while claiming she should win an Oscar for her acting skills.
Following his death all I wanted to do was write up his obituary and even spoke with his brother to get the timeline of my dads employers, I was sad but looking for an opportunity to possibly fix a broken part of our family but was met with anger, hesitation and this weird feeling that the people my dad surrounded himself with had already been prepped to believe I was trouble and not someone they should trust. Which sadly is so far from the truth it’s embarrassing.
The funeral home needed my signature to allow his cremation and offered me a portion of his ashes which I am so grateful for. They explained to me the process and how I can and will pick up my share and the rest will be delivered to the cemetery. The only thing that was important to me was that I had some of his ashes and they let me know because I was the next of kin that it was up to me. Somehow during all this, the other party somehow heard that I was the only one who could release his ashes and came to the conclusion that they wouldn’t be getting any ashes which is so far from the truth. The owner of the funeral home ended up calling me and letting me know who is getting the rest of the ashes like I was some kind of trouble maker when all I cared about was making sure I had my share.
It was almost as if they had all been informed about what a problem I was and was going to cause after his death. Not a single one of them have ever reached out and asked for my side of anything as far as the story goes. He’s been gone 2 1/2 months and there are people who have reached out to my children asking about my dad but have said nothing to me. It’s so weird to me that no one has asked me about him and that people would rather ask everyone else, but I’m supposed to believe my parents loved me. Why are people not asking me about him then? Why are people asking my children instead?
It kind of makes me giggle a little bit and reminds me of a time where there was some miscommunication between me and dad when my children were little where I accused my dad of doing something he didn’t do but I never actually asked my dad about it for clarification. He chewed me out and let me know if I wanted to know if he did something to ask him because that’s the only way I’d know the truth. I’ve never forgotten that and now I’m watching everyone in his circle accuse me of things they have no idea about because they haven’t bothered to ask me. I’m being treated like a foreigner and being ignored by people who should be getting to know me, who should be sharing stories of my dad with me and who should be caring and understanding and trying to put the pieces together. It’s upsetting for sure but it’s actually more hurtful than anything.
Not everyone knows or understands what it’s like to have a childhood like mine and sadly not everyone cares. It’s pretty unbelievable anyway, and my dad was just as much of a victim as my brother and I were.
A few years ago my dad let me know that I was his blood, my mother was not, and if I made him choose between us he’d choose his blood first. That was an ultimatum I wasn’t willing to give him because I knew he’d already been given one in his life as far as his children goes and it wasn’t fair to do to him so I walked away knowing it would break me and it did. It completely broke me and I finally understood how my brother felt.
I’ve been in therapy since he passed away and I’m learning about all the grief I’ve carried my entire life. Grief for the child in me who ended up being the collateral damage in a lifelong revenge story for a father who didn’t choose the right path for his family.
I have been lied to, manipulated and shamed for years for wanting a relationship with my father. My brother was lied to, manipulated and shamed for wanting a relationship with his father to the point where he felt it would be better to die than to continue living with the hope of ever having a relationship with him.
My dad had a lot of issues and problems with his own childhood that bled into ours but when he wasn’t involved with our mother he was the most amazing father. Those times never seemed to last very long because once she saw happiness in our eyes she would go out of her way to piss him off and he’d disappear again. It was a vicious circle that he couldn’t see.
I can only hope in the end he realized that what I tried to get him to see was the truth. I hope those who were close to him can find the courage to sit down and listen to my version of my life with him and see me through their own eyes and not the eyes of someone who didn’t want me to have a relationship with him.
I missed my dad my entire life and I wished he’d have believed that I wanted the best for him. I know he did but I also know how he felt about my mother and her grip is a lot more powerful than mine and I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive her for the things she did to keep him away from us.
My Life, My Story 
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