My father is Sick; Revised

My father is sick. Looking at him now his eyes are yellow, taking the appearance of a monster. His body is weak, moving around the house like a slug in mud. Seeing him brings such regrets.
A week before it began, he was informed he needed a cat scan, which lead to a development.
His body was reacting to a blockage in his liver. This blockage was unknown and operations were taken place to find the cause. Doctors preformed surgery to investigate, but at the start of entering my fathers mouth to reach the liver during the operation, he began to suffocate, flirting with death.
He's very fragile due to a fall he had off a roof during his childhood, that broke every bone in his face; disrupting his throat passage. Because of this he will be transferred to bigger hospital in the city with more experienced doctors.
Still his body weakens with every step. He walks and moves slower everyday, we can only hope the progression of his illness slows itself.
Medical bills pile on my fathers weak shoulders. Although my father has health insurance, they only will pay for so much. Meanwhile, during these stressful times, bills swarm my unemployed mother back at home.

My father has been an owner of his own plumbing and heating business for thirty years. Now after thirty years, he has still worked alone with not enough money to hire help. He has worked penny to penny for ages, and has never stopped. He's sick now and out of work. With no work there is no money, and with that comes fear.

My father is sick. My father is tired. My father has given. At this time I realize, I have not given back.

In those thirty years my father has given, I have taken with no second thought. I have not realized the importance of my father. A father does so much that sometimes his children don't understand, they don't treasure what they have and what their fathers have done. But now I understand. Now I have realized. Now I see clearly. Unfortunately, now My Father is Sick.