I Almost Lost My Dad Yesterday
I have not done much exercising lately. What little I have done is rehab at home or at Excel Physical Therapy. Oh, that and walking countless steps in and around Creighton Medical Center in Omaha, as my dad struggles to overcome brain surgery and regain his health.
Yes, I am still writing about my father and his amazing will to live. Right now his struggle is what my family’s universe revolves around. The past week has been terrible and miraculous. I am thankful and exhausted. I am grateful to many, but wish his ordeal was over-mostly for him, but a little selfishness on my part too.
My dad’s physical strength has been shining brightly this past week, even though for months I have felt that he was getting more and more frail-is frailer a word? At not quite 85 years old, to withstand two surgeries totaling 23 hours in two days shows a great physical strength, and also that he has a tremendous inner strength as well. His recovery has been no cake walk either.
Though his surgery was last Wednesday and Thursday, yesterday was the first day his eyes were open for more than a few seconds. He seemed to be focusing more and though I haven’t been to Omaha to visit him yet, I understand today has been his best day since the surgeries, and Dr. Foster, the oncologist, is quite pleased with his progress. I am thrilled, but I have to tell you more about yesterday, because we almost lost him yesterday.
My mom called me at work shortly after 8:00 a.m. She had just talked with his ICU nurse and he was running a fever of 104. Although the hospital had run a number of cultures during the night, there was nothing to pinpoint an infection. They were giving him a wide variety of antibiotics, hoping one would work. I called Jane and told her we needed to go to Omaha right away, whether than wait until afternoon as we had planned.
By the time we arrived, dad’s temperature had climbed to 106.4. The nurse was hooking up an ice blanket to put over him. Jane told me I shouldn’t watch the temp reading on the ice blanket machine, but I was literally willing it with every ounce of energy I had just to drop .1 degrees. It seemed like it took forever, but finally his temp was 106.3, then 106.2.
My son Matt came in to see his grandpa, and started talking with my dad. Maybe the blanket would have started working around then anyway, but when Matt came in, dad’s temperature drop was dramatic. His temperature dropped almost two degrees in the 45 minutes Matt was able to visit before going back to work.
The ICU nurse brought in a second ice blanket, and this blanket was placed under dad. Another nurse brought in several bags of ice to put under his arms. His temperature was steadily dropping, but so was his blood pressure. I don’t think one situation had anything to do with the other event just they were happening at the same time.
Early in the afternoon my dad’s blood pressure dropped to dangerous levels, with a reading of 60/29 showing once. I was truly afraid he was going to just slip away. Several of you have emailed me telling me you believe dad has a guardian angel watching over him, and I think you are right. I guess his guardian took a long break yesterday, or maybe he wanted us to appreciate again just how important my dad is to us. His team of surgeons talked, and prescribed a med that squeezed his hear muscle, and helped to get his blood pressure back to more normal readings.
Late in the afternoon he was finally stable, and ICU personnel took him to radiology for a CT scan. When he returned from that another technician did an ultrasound. And totally blowing my mind, my dad was awake, and if nothing else, he seemed to be giving a look that he was plenty irritated. He stayed awake for longer than he had since his surgery.
Today they are doing a minor procedure on what the doctors call his “flap.” They transplanted a muscle from his back to replace all what had been removed from his head, and it is my understanding this is the flap. I truly hope the procedure is “minor.” I needed to work today, and have been able to get something accomplished, as well as write this. Jane and I are leaving at 3:00 p.m. to visit him.
Dad’s guardian angel is back after taking that day long break yesterday, and must be feeling a little embarrassed by all that happened, since dad is doing so good today. We have been taking things a day at a time, and hopefully yesterday was the last of the worst, and the beginning of things getting better for my dad.
I have been truly amazed and feel blessed by the outpouring of prayers and thoughts from so many people, some I barely know. Maybe 9,000,000 people Twitter, but I know I have the best followers of anyone. People from around the world have been praying for my dad, and to say I am touched doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I will be forever grateful, because I know your prayers helped my dad survive.
Your prayers, three great doctors, and an amazing staff at Creighton Medical Center have helped him through his illness. The ICU nurses have asked everyday to take care of my dad-I don’t know how a semi-comatose 84 year old man can be charismatic, but the nurses felt something, and they have been nursing him in an almost unbelievable fashion. Rich was his nurse over the weekend, and did an amazing job, and I have to mention Elizabeth his nurse yesterday. From the beginning of her shift at 6:00 a.m. until after 6:00 p.m. when her shift ended, she was constantly busy with my dad. I know health care gets a lot of bad PR, but if everyone was like the people who have treated my dad, America would once again be known for the best health care in the world.
This isn’t my first go round sitting in hospital waiting rooms. Jane’s parents both died over 20 years ago, and both were hospitalized for some time before their deaths. It is depressing watching a loved one in such a state and it is terribly frustrating because all you can do is be there. Yesterday Jane broke down as my dad’s blood pressure dropped to critical levels. I know she did not want to experience with my dad what she went through with he parents, but she truly loves my dad too. Years ago my grandma said “Ronnie sure got a good one,” describing Jane, and she was right.
Anyway, about hospital waiting rooms-for over 30 years my dad boned Cure 81 hams for Hormel. It was a tough, dangerous job. I would rather do that for years than sit in a hospital waiting room for a day. After sitting for 8-10-12-14 hours, my wife and I have left totally exhausted, spent physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. I haven’t been driving much since my arm is in a sling, but several times I have needed to take off the sling and drive home because Jane was even more wiped out than me. It is hard to unwind after spending a day at the hospital, and it is difficult to sleep too-plus I am still sleeping in a recliner because of my shoulder surgery, and getting a few hours of sleep is all I can muster.
I can handle all the aches and pains and emotion swings that go with this process. All I care about is having Hank back with us again.
Thanks for stopping by.
Leave a Reply