My father went into surgery yesterday morning at 7am. His body immediately began rejecting the pump they implanted. At 3am this morning, the surgeons had done everything they could for him. His body just would not stabilize. Throughout the night, they gave him $20,000 worth of blood...all the blood at the hospital. They were contacting the Red Cross for additional supplies. They went from Plan A through Plan Z. None worked. It was over.
I am glad that I got a chance to personally thank the surgeons who cancelled all the other surgeries throughout the day in order to keep working...heart pumps are supposed to take 4 hours to insert. The surgeon, as he cried, told my mother that he'd never worked 20 hours on a person before. Most surgeons would have been like "this dude has smoked his whole life and ate carelessly and didn't seek medical attention soon enough" and thrown in the towel. He had the best heart surgeons in the city and they worked tirelessly. Exhausted every last option. It just wasn't meant to be. His body just wasn't going to handle it.
I am so comforted by the fact that he was happy and joyful and comfortable this morning before they took him down. He told my mother that he's in God's hands and that he's okay with whatever the Lord has in store for him. I am glad that he is okay now. No more pain, discomfort, exhaustion, shortness of breath, swollen nuts, wondering what's going to happen next. He's home. In good hands.
My stomach is in a million knots. I don't know what to do, think, say. I feel so bad for my mother...she had truly prepared herself to help him learn his new pump and to look after him and be there with him as his health returned and he regained his quality of life. She has to find comfort in the fact that God will do the care-taking directly now. It obviously just wasn't in His plans for her to do that. More than anything, she was looking forward to grandparenting together. She had already imagined how joyous the day was going to be, when she drove my dad to the hospital and they got to hold baby Damian together. She couldn't wait for that. And now, he'll be a memory on that day.
My poor brother is beside himself as well. He feels a lot of guilt for not coming to the hospital yesterday morning and visiting with him while he was still alive and talking and happy. He missed my mom dancing for my dad and I. We got some real good laughs in before they took him down to surgery. My brother feels horrible for having missed that. He regrets not making enough time to come to the hospital as much as I was there, which was daily. My mother and I told him to let it all go.It's alright. He desperately wishes that he could have shown his son to my dad. He said that it's not often that the best man he's ever met is his own dad. We talked about how incredibly blessed and lucky we are to have had him and gotten this many years with him. We know way too many people who don't know their father or who have true dickheads as fathers....so we cannot even be mad or feel cheated or say that it's unfair that our father is gone. We're abundantly blessed.
I told both my mother and brother that dad is okay now. He's well. He went bravely, comfortably, and in peace. And I reminded them that God is still in control. He's still good. He is still worthy to be praised. He does everything perfectly and in order. We may hurt now, but we still have a lot to be thankful for. We have a lot of joy still left. We are still being blessed. Even though it was extremely painful to walk out of the hospital last night and to know that he wasn't ever going to leave, we're troopers and we're going to be okay.
As my mother packed her things and left my apartment, she held a finger in the air and said "we are going to be okay." She's right.
This is my first time truly being alone since it all went down. It's been cryish. I know that it hasn't set all the way in yet. This is only the beginning. It probably has to get worse before it gets better. But my mom is right...we will be okay.
I fully understand that God and the love of Jesus are the only relief from the pain. I've been knowin that. But it hurts so bad. Support from family and friends helps a little. I'm so thankful for all the people in my corner. Shanee has been right by my side through all of this, up until about 7pm yesterday...I was hurt and disappointed that she made the [horrible] judgment call to attend a comedy show on campus as opposed to checking on me and being available to me. If the shoe were on the other foot and her father had been in surgery for 12 hours on a procedure that is supposed to take 4 hours and her and her family haven't heard a peep from the O.R., there is no way that I could have just went and got my laugh on. No way in hell. I just felt that it was a really selfish and insensitive thing to have done. She came within an inch of getting cursed out something terrible. I later apologized for the things that I said to her. I explained to her that I meant every word of it, but the manner in which I spoke wasn't right. The things I said were mean and didn't make me feel any better. She apologized for her actions and forgave me for the names I called her. It makes me nervous about the weeks and months to come...can I trust her to truly be there for me? Can I lean and depend on her? It just reaffirms for me that it is completely foolish of me to think for a second that I can fully depend on man. I cannot put my faith in anyone other than God. Nobody on this earth can provide the comfort that I need and can only get from Him. But still...it hurts that she acted that way and now I'm left to wonder if she really means all the things she says. She really dropped the ball and knows how to add insult to injury.
Part of me wants to just take a shower, put on my clothes, go out to lunch, go see a movie, and just act like nothing happened. Just act like everything is fine. All is well.
- ▼ March (10)