Some of the things that have recently come back to haunt me are the weeks, days, hours and minutes of Hannah's struggle to stay alive after her relapse in early October of 2007.  What we all thought was a count down to her coming home for good quickly switched to an unwanted countdown of the small window of life she had left....  A triumphant battle with a bad disease turned into a desperate plea for answers that were out of reach for the most brilliant and educated....  A story that would have inspired many to contribute heavily towards a cure for this horrific disease reversed it's course and left us bewildered and battered...so how, as a father. I'm supposed to pick up the pieces??... how am I supposed to be the role model???...  how am I supposed to be a good example??

  For some reason, these thoughts and memories have resurfaced with a vengeance that are very horrid and vivid.  i purposely stopped reporting her day to day progress after relapse as witnessing her losing fight to simply survive was not something I could report, digest or even accept.   but somehow, the nightmare of seeing her lose such a difficult battle has hit me full force.