The last couple of weeks have been crazy around here. I apologize for not updating sooner but this week I was playing catch up for the two crazy weeks prior.
Things all started to spin out of control on St. Patrick's Day morning- Sunday, March 17. I woke up to my phone ringing. It was my Mom. I quickly cancelled the call and rolled over to go back to sleep. "I'll call her back when I'm up," I thought. About two minutes later, the phone rang again. Seeing that my Mom was calling for a second time, I woke up right away knowing something was wrong. Usually she just leaves a message when I can't get to the phone and I call her back. I had a knot in my stomach.
When I finally answered, my Mom's voice sounded different. Not her perky, usual self but also not upset. Just very matter-of-fact. She explained that my Dad wasn't feeling well and that he thought he was having a heart attack and that they were on their way to the hospital so he could get checked out. She said not to worry because he was still conscious and talking the whole way there and they think he caught it before something major happened. She told me she would call me back in 30 minutes after he was admitted. I got a little upset and went downstairs to tell Jason. He calmed me down and told me that it was a good sign that they didn't have to cal 911 or anything and that he was sure everything would be fine. After a hug and a talk, I started to believe him.
I cooked us breakfast and was about to get ready for the day. We were supposed to meet up with some friends for St. Patty's Day festivities in the afternoon-I had been looking forward to it all week. Before I hopped into the shower, I realized that it had been an hour since I last spoke to my Mom. I called her and that is when she told me that she had just spoke with the Dr. and was told that my Dad had a massive heart attack. I immediately broke down. My Mom assured me that he was ok and said she didn't want to upset me because I am pregnant. How could I not be upset? She told me that he was going to be transferred to St. Joseph's Hospital in Atlanta via ambulance as soon as possible. It was at that point that I knew it was serious.
I immediately hopped in the shower. I was hysterical. Jason was trying to comfort me, telling me everything was ok when I knew it clearly was not. He got my phone and left messages for my friends we had plans with, letting them know that we wouldn't be able to make it. I'm pretty sure that is the fastest I have ever gotten ready. We ran over to my Mom's to drop Jack off and to let her dogs out and off to St. Joe's we went. We beat both my Dad in the ambulance (it took a little longer than expected because of the special machine he was hooked up to) and my Mom. Then began the waiting period.
When my Mom arrived, she explained everything she knew thus far- that his heart had major blockage, that he was on a balloon pump and that he would need surgery as soon as his heart was ready for it. We were standing in the hall when my Dad was rushed by us, attached to all sorts of machines. It was very scary and he looked as white as a ghost. We sat in the waiting room for a while before we were told that he would need heart surgery in a few days. For the time being, his heart would need to rest so it could hold up for the surgery. We eventually were able to see him in his own room.
The couple of days before surgery went by so fast. Dad was in his bed, cracking jokes and obviously thankful to be alive. The doctors were amazed that he survived, given how much blockage he had. Had he not gotten to the hospital when he did, he probably still wouldn't be with us. It was very sobering to know that I could lose my Dad, or anyone for that matter, when you least expect it. I was so happy that my Dad was alive!
On Tuesday, my Dad had a triple bypass surgery. We got to the hospital at 5:30am so we could talk to him before he was taken back for his procedure at 8am. It was scary to think that that could be the last time we ever spoke to him. Then we just had to sit and wait. We took over a whole section of the waiting room, waiting to hear when they would start the surgery and finally again when it was over. A couple hours later, we were finally able to see him. As soon as we all walked into the ICU recovery room, I couldn't stop the tears. My Dad looked dead. I mean, he was a shade of white I have never seen on a person, he was clammy, wasn't moving and each breath the machine helped him take (with the oxygen mask on) appeared like it was going to be his last. I have never been so scared in my life. We all talked to him and he was obviously incoherent and sleeping still from the medicine. I just couldn't wait for his eyes to open and to see his smile. To make sure he was going to be ok.
At one point during my Dad's recovery the first day, the doctor came and told us that he wanted to talk to us. We went into a private waiting area and he told us that the surgery went well and that he wanted to show us some pictures. It was at that point when he whipped out his iPad and showed us a video... a VIDEO of my Dad's chest open and his heart beating. I am surprised none of us passed out. None of us were expecting it. I honestly don't remember many of the details but the surgery went well and he would be waking up soon.
He finally started to wake up a bit and each of us got to go into see him, two at a time. When Jason and I went in, I just told him how much I loved him and how proud of him I was. His eyes were still closed and I wasn't sure he could hear me. I did make a comment about how I wished I knew he could hear me and he gave me a thumbs up, which obviously was a very good sign. I told him I guess I would take the thumbs up and then he jokingly gave me the finger. It was then that I realized he was gonna be ok. I mean, who jokes around after open heart surgery, with a tube down their throat while medicated?! Before we left he opened his eyes for a second and it made my day!
The rest of the week was spent at the hospital. Each day, Dad got better and better. On Wednesday, I finally got to hear his voice. The best part was when he got his own private room that didn't have the crazy visiting hours of the ICU. I visited him everyday for most of the day. It was amazing how fast he was recovering in such a short time. By the time the weekend rolled around he looked great and he was finally released to go home on Sunday. A true miracle!!
It was the scariest and most emotional week of my life. I am so thankful for all of the prayers and love that was poured out to my Dad and our family. All of the support was incredible and I seriously could not have gotten through the week without them.
So this year, our Irish blessing was:
A sunbeam to warm you, Good luck to charm you.
A Sheltering angel, So nothing can harm you,
Laughter to cheer you, Faithful friends near you,
And whenever you pray, Heaven to hear you.
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But the biggest blessing of all is that my Dad is still alive and well! He still has quite a recovery ahead of him but I am so glad that we will still have precious time together. I couldn't imagine life without my Dad. I love you Daddy-o! And next time you don't want to have breakfast with me, just tell me. You didn't have to have a heart attack to get out of our date. ;)
