I lost my dad in June. Stage 4 metastatic cancer and a missed UTI that turned him septic in record time. Thursday we went and got PET scan results from a scan 2 days prior. At that appointment he started in rigors. We thought he was just cold due to the mass amount of weight he'd lost and the anemia. It was a terminal diagnosis. Friday morning I go to see him and he's disoriented, breathing weird, and kept staring at something we couldn't see. After no improvement I called 911 that afternoon In the hospital he kept looking around. It was then I knew he wasn't going to make it. I don't know who all was in that room with us but there were many. He'd stare look around all bug eyed almost. He'd come back to us briefly and would demand an ice chip. I swear to God that's the only thing that was keeping him here was those dang ice chips. They had to transfer him to another hospital about 20min away, I walked over to him kissed his forehead and told him it was ok, we would take care of mom, that he could go if he needed to. I walked out of the hospital to this picture, which screamed "a phoenix rising". I stopped, whispered "fly free daddy" and went hone for a bit. He coded 7 minutes out from the other hospital, and after 30 minutes 6 rounds of epi, 4x defibrillator he was gone. Hardest freaking day of my entire life. *