Mama Knows Best

Tuesday evening was filled with emotion. I spent the later part of the evening with my older brothers, who came into town to be with the family before my father’s surgery. My brothers and I saw my parents off Tuesday evening, which was mostly filled with many tears, but also a great deal of laughter. How do you ever fully prepare yourself for a moment like this?

Wednesday morning came way too fast and was more emotional than any other moment in my life. My nerves were causing all sorts of chaos in my body and slightly with my mind. To be completely honest, Wednesday morning started off poorly. I was up at 4:00a.m., as all of us had planned, filled the wood stove and was ready to hit the road no later than 4:25a.m. My brother on the other hand, the one riding with me (of course), took his precious time getting around. After swinging into my grandparents house to pick up my grandmother, I drove like a man woman all the way to the hospital, out of fear I would miss giving my father a kiss before they wheeled him back into surgery. We did make it to the hospital with time to spare, but my frustration was still there.

9:22a.m., our buzzer goes off, telling us that they were now officially operating on my father. We were told to expect to wait anywhere from 4-6 hours for his surgery, as long as they did not encounter any hiccups. At twenty after noon, we get a phone call in the surgery waiting us room, telling us to meet the surgeon on the eighth floor. And I know this next part seems pessimistic, but my Aunt and I both believed that the surgeon was calling to tell us that he wasn’t able to do everything as planned. Again, I know that is pessimistic, but only three hours? I was nervous. Surgeon enters about a quarter to one to tell us that the surgery was a success! It went much smoother and faster than anticipated… we should be able to see my father in a couple of hours.

As we sit there in the waiting room, we see the nurses wheeling people to and from the various areas of the cardiac unit. We watched as body after body went through those halls. And then came my father, who looked amazing, but lifeless. His swelling was minimal, his eyes were taped shut and he had more tubes/wires coming out of him. I never realized how much “prepping” it really took for this type of surgery and how many “things” would be involved. We watched as they walk him down the hall and around the corner to his little room in the CCU.

My mother and grandmother were the first ones to see my father and were in there only 2 minutes before being rushed out to the waiting room. During their brief “visit,” my father’s blood pressure spiked. We also found out around this time that my father’s blood gases were off, which caused some concern for the nurse/doctor. After about three hours of waiting, we were finally able to go in to see Papaw (dad’s nickname). For whatever reason, I though that seeing my father and looking at the monitors would help reassure me that all was okay, that he was going to make it through this. I thought for sure my emotions and nerves would settle, but they only got worse. As I stood there looking at my father, I was flooded with emotion. His legs were twitching, he was fighting back tears and you could see him laboring for breath (even with the ventilator). I clung tight to my brother as we walked back down to the waiting room.

Around 9:30p.m., after talking to the nurses, we all decided it would be a good time to head back to our hotel for a good night’s sleep. Except no one could sleep. A group of us went to the bar across the street to get a drink, in hopes of some relaxation. After a couple of drinks, I was ready for bed and slept like a rock once my head hit the pillow.

Phone calls poured in the following morning, making it hard for me to sleep in as long as I had hoped, but the final call was the call of importance. At 4:00a.m. that morning my father was successfully taken off the vent and breathing room air! Hallelujah!  We met up for breakfast and headed back up to the hospital, where we sat for almost 1.5 hours until we could see my father for the brief 20 minutes they allow during that particular visiting slot.  Seeing him this time around was much, much better than the first go round.  He was no longer sedated, his color was fabulous and he was able to speak with us.  The only downfall?  Not being able to give him kisses- not even on the top of his head, so I held his hand.  I spent the vast majority of the twenty minutes staring at him, grateful for the gift God had given to our family and praying that this was not too good to be true and thanking God for given my father another chance at life.  God is great!

As for how he’s doing now?  Well, he’s having problems with his oxygen saturation.  He will hit the low 90′s on his own, but quickly falls back down to the low 80′s, where he seems to be holding steady.  His glucose levels are a little bit funky right now too, but that is the least of their worries at the current moment.  Doctors had originally thought they would be sending Papaw home tomorrow afternoon/evening, but are now looking at a Monday/Tuesday release, as long as there are no more hiccups.

Thank you to everyone who has said a prayer for our family.  I cannot even begin to tell you how much I appreciate the prayers.  And thank you to all of those who sent text messages, cards, called or emailed me.  I promise to write, call or email you back as soon as possible.  Right now, I am playing catch up and cleaning my parents house for my father’s arrival. Plus, I am planning a little get together to help celebrate Thanksgiving and my father’s successful surgery (Acid cigars and champagne anyone?).