I never knew my father but my Papa (grandfather)stepped up and took care ofme and my older brother. I always thought the world of him. He was everything I could rely on. WhenI was twelve hebecame really sick. Hospitalized twice. During the five months he was in the 5150 I learned he was a drug addict. He used pot and cocaine --he was even a dealer. His fiance had some of her friends inject some other kinds of drugs in his system (I don't remember what kind but they were the top 3 worst drugs you can put in your body). The reactions of the drugs eventually took its toll. In 2006 he was pronounced schizophrenic with enciphalitis of the brain (basically your brain swells and you lose your memory first and all your motor functions fail slowly after wards). The doctors gave him 6 months. He ended up living three more years but it was hard on our family and especially on him. He was never the same. He didn't remember who he was, what he did in his life, his family but he did remember what happened when he got sick. Unfortunatly we weren't able to prove that his fiance was partially responsible. On April 27, 2009, at 1:27pm, he passed away. His passing was more hard on our family because of the fact the Papa we remembered had died in October of 2006. This was just a reminder, but it felt like aslap in the face. As a result of my Grandpa's death, I've become 100% anti-drugs. I don't use them or waste my time with anyone who does.