Seven months ago, my father died from a stage four malignant brain tumor that was never detected. Never were there any suspicions or assumptions about anything being wrong with my father until it was too late. He was a healthy 54 year old living a normal life. Francisco Romero was a kind man with a heart of gold, always worrying about the well being of his family. One day my mother noticed there was a tremendous change in his attitude and the way he reacted to his surroundings. Everyone encouraged him to get himself checked and he constantly refused, telling us he was fine and didn.t need medical attention. He would not get out of bed and would forget to eat or take a shower. He was suspended from work for continuously arriving late and had been in a car accident one day on his way to work. When later asked about the accident he could not recall anything and could not tell the police officers what exactly happened. It wasn't until my mother begged him to seek medical attention and on arrival to the emergency room he couldn.t remember his name or his birthday when the nurse asked him for his information. Immediately the doctor asked for an MRI and concluded he had a mass on the right side of his head, almost < the size of his brain. Due to the size of the mass, there was uncontrollable pressure on the parts of his brain that controlled his temperature, memory, and his ability to respond. My father would be fine one day and not be responsive the next. As if he was on a rollercoaster, talking normal to us on Monday, falling into a comma on Tuesday and finally waking up on Thursday. Unfortunately, with no continuous sign of improvement, the following week he fell into a comma where he was pronounced brain dead. The most hurtful decision I.ve ever had to make was when we decided to take my father off the respirator and let him die on the hospital bed. My mother, my sister and I stood by his side, making his last moments as comfortable as they can be. Holding his hand, watching the clock as his breathing pattern changed, I knew the time would come soon. As I sat there crying, holding his hand and telling him how much I loved him he took his last breath. All I can remember is how cold his hand felt against mine soon after he passed.
My father passed away two weeks after being diagnosed. I constantly ask myself what we could have done to prevent this tragedy an all I can think of is the lack of previous medical attention. I believe medical procedures such as a CAT scan or an MRI could have saved my father.s life if they had been taken several years before July 2008. The doctor emphasized how my dad.s brain tumor was a silent killer. There had been no signs of illness until it was too late to take action. I would hate to think that someone else in this world is going through the same thing. That is why I believe Cat scans and MRI scans should be mandatory for patients every five years.