It’s been a while since I’ve posted. Life has taken … a turn.
Last Tuesday evening, I got a phone call I’ve been dreading probably my entire life. My stepmom said that my father had failed a stress test and was rushed to the hospital. He needed open heart surgery – a quadruple bypass. It would happen that week.
Tuesday night was bad. Unfortunately, it got even worse as the days stretched on.
I drove to Johnstown on Wednesday and spent time with my dad. We talked, laughed and prepared ourselves for his surgery. I felt surrounded by the love and support of family and friends. I was nervous, but I had a feeling he’d pull through just fine. The doctor said he had a 99 percent success rate. That gave me peace of mind that he’d be okay.
Fast forward to Friday. The surgery went as well as expected. He even woke up sooner than they thought he would. I’ll never forget the feeling I had just being by his side that day. Relief. Joy. Love.
But those feelings of relief unfortunately didn’t last. The evening of that same day, my dad began bleeding internally. He was rushed back into the operating room for a second surgery.
It’s pretty hard to put into words how I was feeling during this time. But it’s safe to say I was stunned, a bit shocked and very scared.
A lot of things pulled me through that second surgery. M being there. My family staying close. Higher powers. Keeping the faith. And just trusting and believing that he’d come out on the other side.
And that he did. It was a long, slow recovery in the days that followed. And I will be forever grateful that I was there throughout it all, beside him.
It goes without saying that of all the people in my life, my dad tops the charts. And I’m so glad that he’s going home.