“Hey, Dad,” I said softly, coming up behind him.

He sat dozing in his easy chair in front of the TV. The news was on low, but he wasn't paying attention to the day's stock market prices. He snored slightly and then shook himself awake.

“Hannah.” He smiled a little, then frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” I told him, coming around and kneeling in front of his chair. I set my first aide kit on the floor next to me.

He looked pale, and when I put my hand on his, he felt clammy. Despite the air conditioning going in the house he was sweating, but had a blanket across his lap. I didn't like the slight wheeze in his voice when he spoke, either.

“I'm fine,” he assured me. “I just need some rest.”

“Mom told me you fell today,” I replied.

“I just got light headed. It's all those damn medications and the damn humidity right now,” he grumbled. “I just need some rest is all. I'm fine.”

“Okay. You rest, and I'll check you out.” I

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I thought he was going to protest. He opened his mouth and then just sighed. “Fine.”

It was a bad sign. My father was too tired to argue with me. This was a man that loved to talk politics, religion, farming techniques, and guns. The fact that he put up no resistance made my internal alarms go off.

He opened his mouth to say something, but instead of words just coughed. It sounded wet and heavy. He struggled to take a deep breath and for a moment, I was worried he'd stop breathing entirely. No wonder he was exhausted if just breathing took that much energy.

I opened my kit and pulled out my things to do a full nursing assessment. I had a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, stethoscope, bandages, ace wraps, and all sorts of various creams in my kit. It seemed that once people found out I was a nurse, they always wanted me to check their blood pressure or look at a cut to see if it was infected.

I did a full nursing assessment on my father and didn't like the results.

He had several abrasions on the palms of his hands from catching himself in the fall, as well as a small bump on his head. They were minor, so I wasn't too worried about them. His heart rate was too fast and he had a low grade fever, but the most concerning thing I found were his lung sounds.

Every breath crackled and wheezed. Add in his weakness and loss of energy, I was fairly confident he had pneumonia again.

I hated the way my chest tightened around my heart. We'd found his cancer because of pneumonia. It was the reason he'd gone to the clinic two years ago and they'd seen concerning shadows in his lungs. It was the first test in a long line of doctor appointments, specialist appointments, and chemo and radiation treatments.

And now he had it again.

Dad had dozed off while I listened to his lungs, and I let him stay there, sitting upright in his chair to go talk to my mother. Mom stood in the kitchen, watching me carefully. Her mouth was a thin line and her arms crossed.

“So?” she asked as I walked over.

“I think he's got pneumonia,” I said softly.

She blinked back sudden tears, but none fell. I knew that this was perhaps the hardest on her. This man was her everything. They'd married at eighteen, had one daughter after years of trying, and had been through everything together.

“What do we do?” she asked me, her eyes going to the easy chair.

“I'm going to call Dr. Matthews and have him meet us at the clinic. We need to do a chest x-ray to make sure it is pneumonia. If it is, he'll write a prescription for antibiotics. We'll do a breathing treatment in the office, and that will make him feel a lot better.”

My mother nodded, taking in a deep breath. She stoically lifted her chin up and squared her shoulders. My mother was a strong woman.

“Okay. I'll get the car.” She uncrossed her arms and hurried to her purse. I saw her quickly wipe at her eyes as she went to the garage. I called Jacob and told him what I suspected. He promised to meet me at the clinic immediately.

I closed my eyes and took a breath in. This wasn't easy for me. This wasn't just another patient. This was my father. This was the man that danced with me at every cousin's wedding because I didn't have a date. This was the man that taught me how to change a tire and catch a fish. This man loved me and I adored him.

I went and gently touched his arm. “Dad? Time to wake up. Dr. Matthews needs to see you.”

He snorted as he slowly woke. “I just want to sleep,” he mumbled.

“I know, but you don't want to disappoint Dr. Matthews,” I said, pulling on his arm.

He sighed, but got up. “My shoes are by the door.”

I held his arm, surprised at the amount of weight he rested on me. He struggled with his steps, his body obviously exhausted. I helped him to the door and we slid on a pair of slippers rather than dealing with shoes. Mom waited outside for us, the car door open and ready for him.

Dad slept on the way to the clinic. Mom and I tried some light easy conversation for a few minutes, but neither one of us was really interested in actually talking. She put on the radio to an oldies station and we drove without saying anything.

Dr. Jacob was waiting outside the clinic when we arrived. He'd kept on the scrubs from earlier, but had smoothed his hair and wore shoes now. I felt better just seeing him.

“Good evening, Mr. O’Leary,” Jacob greeted my father. He helped my father stand from the car. Jacob took most of his weight, supporting my father even when his legs gave out. My father was weaker than I had thought.

My mother and I followed behind the two men into the clinic. My mother kept a calm face, but she alternated between twisting her wedding ring around on her finger and tugging on her purse strap. She was far more nervous than she was letting on, too.

Inside, Dr. Matthews set my father up at the x-ray machine. My father struggled to keep upright as the machine buzzed. I could hear his labored breathing and my own lungs tried to compensate for him.

For the first time, I really felt that my father was sick. I knew he had cancer. I'd seen the x-rays. I'd gone to the chemo appointments with him. I'd talked to all his doctors, but had never felt this real before. He'd always been so strong, so big, and so indestructible. He was a rock in my life. In my mind, he was as invincible as Superman and twice as strong. I remembered him throwing me up above his head and catching me. In my mind, he was still capable of doing that despite the fact I was well over thirty years old.

To see him struggle to stand was at odds with the man I held in my mind. It was impossible that the two men where the same, and yet I knew they were.

I had to turn away and close my eyes. I didn't want to see this. Not yet. Not ever, really.

“Hannah, will you set up the breathing treatment?” Dr. Matthews asked, coming out into the hallway. His eyes were kind as he put his hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. Sure. Sorry, I didn't even think about starting it,” I said, trying to shake myself out of daughter mode and into nurse mode.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jacob asked, standing in front of me and putting his hands on my shoulders. My mother had disappeared into the x-ray room now that the pictures were taken, so we were alone in the hallway.

“I don't know,” I answered honestly, looking up at him. “I know what's going to happen next. I know how to give the medications. I know the techniques. I know the care plan, but...”

“But, it's different when it's someone you love,” he finished for me. I nodded and he wrapped his arms around me.

I placed my ear on his chest, closing my eyes. Jacob's steady heartbeat and the strength of his arms held me still, even as my world threatened to spin out control. In his embrace, I was safe.

“You going to be okay?” he asked me softly, his breath soft against my hair.

I nodded, still holding tightly onto him. I appreciated that he didn't let me go. He was waiting for me to let go first.

Slowly, I took a deep breath and relaxed my grip on him. My mother could walk out at any moment, and even though I knew we could spin it, I didn't want her to see us. I didn't feel like defending myself against the will of the Ladies' Bridge Club tonight.

“I'll go get the breathing treatment,” I murmured. He gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze before turning to go check on the x-rays.

I went to an exam room and set up the tubing and medications. He would wear a mask and breath in medications that would open his lungs and let him breathe better. I knew how to set these up as we did them often, yet my fingers slipped and twisted on the tubes like I was a novice.

Finally, I brought my dad in and set him up. He struggled with the mask at first, but when I told him the medicine would help him breathe, he gave it a good attempt. Within a few breaths, I could see the tension relax slightly from his shoulders as the medicine started to work on his body.

I left my mother watching my father, and stepped out into the hallway. Dr. Matthews came around the corner. He gave me a gentle, soft smile, and then, since no one was around, a hug.

“It's pneumonia,” he told me, his voice low. I nodded into his shoulder. I'd known it the moment I heard his lungs.

“Thank you for being here,” I whispered. I was clutching at him again.

“Of course,” he replied. “I'm always here for you, and not just because it's my job.”

I looked up into his pale eyes and he kissed my forehead. I felt loved. He was my protector. He rode a motorcycle, kicked ass in the clinic, and he loved me.

He gave me one more squeeze before going to the exam room to talk with my parents. I heard his low voice as he told them the results of the x-ray. He answered questions about the antibiotics and medications he was sending home with them.

I peeked through the open door to see my mother sitting next to my father, her hands wrapped around his. He looked smaller now than I remembered. Frailer. My mother sat with her back perfectly straight as she nodded to Dr. Matthews' words.

I leaned against the hallway and closed my eyes.

The whole reason I was in Iowa was to take care of my father. I had known what was coming from the moment I'd agreed to come.

Yet, it was different now that it was happening. It was so much harder. I didn't have my clinical detachment to keep me sane. This was going to be so much harder than I expected.

But, at least I had Jacob. I could hear his voice, soothing and calm, as he spoke to my parents. Just hearing him made my heart ache just a little bit less. I knew that he would help me when my clinical facade cracked and I needed to be a daughter rather than a nurse to my father.

I knew that he would be there for me. I knew it deep in the core of my bones, and it gave me comfort knowing that I wasn't alone anymore.

I had someone now.