I go to medical school in New York, my family lives in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. My girlfriend and I fly down to go for a vacation and to celebrate my birthday. We landed on the 2nd of June, fast forward to the morning of June 9th: My girlfriend and I are fast asleep, when i hear my mother screaming and slamming against the door of our bedroom, screaming incoherently. I leap out of bed, put on some shorts and run out. I lock my hands onto her shoulders and yell at her to tell me exactly what was going on. She tells me my step-dad is having a stroke. I waste no time in sprinting to the master bedroom. The sight is branded into my head, I saw my step dad laying on the bed, his legs hanging limply off the side, his arms sprawled unnaturally against his chest, with his tongue protruding slightly out of his mouth. I immediately run to him and check his pulse, it was negligible. He was probably already in ventricular tachycardia. Fluid was already settling into his lungs so i beat against his chest to try to force some out. Here is the oddest part, the clearest memory i have is this. I happened to glance at the floor, the master bedroom is floored with beautiful marble tile, and serenely raining down upon it is clear fluid, which caught the sunlight and illuminated each drop as it hit the growing puddle. I followed the scrubs up to see the wet spot at the front of his scrubs (he was a doctor) expanding. Afterwards i put him on the floor, and my girlfriend who is certified by the Red Cross to give CPR, applied it to him. Under five minutes later the EMTs were there, but i knew he was already gone. Im not sure how to feel, i almost feel ashamed for feeling so disconnected with the situation. During that day, i was the only person who didnt cry.