My dad was dying from bone cancer in 1976. I watched him die. I was 17 but I stayed by his side for the remaining months of his life. I came to the hospital every day. We shared severe migraines and the conditions that go along with them. I got them from him - but I also got a lot of wonderful things from him.
There are 2 important facts to this story.
One day he reached over to me and said he was sorry for giving me this pain. He said it was unbearable to watch me go through the same thing that he battled. Putting myself in his place I would feel pretty bad too.
The other significant moment came when a doctor came by and said to me " you should be very proud of your father, he is very brave in the face of all this pain". My dad looked up and said "I've had migraines worse than this". Put in perspective - he is saying that our migraines are worse than something that eventually killed him. How can that be?
So next time someone accuses you of exaggeration when you are writhig i agony, tell them this story. My dad was very brave in the face of all this. I loved him very much. I still miss him. I would have done anything to take his place and let him live.
Now my pain is worse than ever. I think about him. I wish I could hold his hand.
Which are you most sensitive to?