My dad has gotten cancer last year. He had been undergoing treatment, but his physical strength had been failing him as of lately.

About an hour prior to my writing this, I got a call from my mom asking me to come down to help my dad into his walker. That's where things went downhill and fast.

I was trying to help him out of the recliner he was sitting in, he was complaining about his leg, and he started to fall, so I had to quickly set him back on the recliner - not very well, but just partially enough to get him on the chair.

Then, he started having trouble speaking, then having trouble breathing... I was panicking, as he wasn't responding to my mother.

We had to call 911. I was panicking because I thought he had passed away, but the paramedics arrived and managed to find a pulse, so that's a relief, but...

They had to take him to the emergency room.

I'm... in all honesty a compete wreck now. I was trying to keep myself positive throughout this whole ordeal, even though I was emotionally distressed just seeing him in the consdition he was in... and this just... broke me.

I'm leaving journal comments off, I just... need some time.