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via BlackDoctor

I was scared and intimidated.

I was standing in a cold and poorly lit hospital emergency room next to my father who was curled up in pain on a stretcher. This scene was all too common. He would suffer at home until it became impossible. Then, we’d take a field trip to the hospital to get “fixed.” He’d be released; then, over time, like clockwork, the cycle would recycle. I listened to him describe his “drugs of choice” as they called them, to his nurses and physician

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