Dad Needs Surgery

My father was very physically fit. Even in his late seventies, he lifted weights, took long walks and did kick boxing almost everyday. He wasn’t on any kind of medications and appeared to be in perfect health. If ever he didn’t feel well, no one knew because he wasn’t one to complain. But mom began to notice dad was experiencing shortness of breath after just minor exertion and insisted he go to the doctor. After several tests were completed, the doctor said dad had a problem with a heart valve and it needed to be replaced. Dad was scheduled for heart surgery.

The morning of dad’s surgery, I drove my parents to the hospital. The rest of the family met us there a short while later. Dad appeared calm, but mom was a nervous wreck. She tried to stay calm in front of dad, but kept telling me she just didn’t feel right about this surgery.

Once dad had been taken into surgery, mom really let down and cried. The surgery took a couple of hours and the more time that passed the more nervous and upset mom became. Finally, the doctor came out and said the surgery was a success and that dad was now in intensive care. Only two visitors were allowed in at a time for five minutes on the hour. I took mom in to see dad and was amazed at how well she held up when she saw him. He looked very pale and very, very frail. Mom sat by his side and held his hand until the nurse told us we had to leave.

The hospital had six rooms they rented out on the sixth floor on a first come first serve basis to family members that wanted to stay the night. Mom wouldn’t leave dad, so my brother, Danny, rented one of the rooms so mom, Shantel and I could stay. As it turned out, we ended up staying five nights. It was a sight to see mom with her walker, and me walking sighted guide with Shantel all through the halls and it wasn’t long before we knew our way around all over the hospital. We passed the time, between visits with dad, laughing about how we could probably just buy a nurse scrub suit, make up a badge, and we would have access to everything we need because we knew where the break rooms were that always seemed to have potlucks going on, we knew where the showers were and we were sure we could all find an empty bed to sleep in. Shantel said she thought she could write a book about how to live homeless in a hospital for free.

When dad was well enough to come home, he needed physical therapy which was scheduled three-times a week in their home. Since mom didn’t cook or  drive, I would do the cooking, shopping, get dad’s prescriptions, clean the house and drive dad to his follow-up doctor’s appointments. Everything seemed to be under control and dad was making progress on his road to recovery. And then, it all went real bad, real fast!

Next Post: Dad Goes Back To The Hospital!

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Gotham Girl
    Feb 24, 2012 @ 22:22:33

    I can see why your mom would be so scared since she relied so heavily on him! xoxo your frissy


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