I am soooo tired!
But at least my chest isn't wired shut!
Now that I've emailed all the groups I posted to and list my mother had for me, I have a cocktail next to the keyboard and I'm forcing this out.
Daddy's going to live.
I didn't arrive at the hospital until just before they wheeled him into ICU recovery. My poor mother and brother had been at the hospital since 3.30am or so. Dad went in to surgery at 8.23. At 9.29 they had the vein out of his leg for the bypass. 10.37 they started on the valve replacement and continued working on that for nearly two hours. At 12.15 they began the bypass and finished up the valve by 1.29 when they started to close. His chest was being dressed at 2.17 and around 3pm he was in recovery. The surgeon came in to talk to Mama, Douglas and I shortly after. Now is when it gets scary. The surgeon opened with telling us his was by far the worst aortic valve he had ever seen. He's convinced it's a congenital defect...I think that's the right word, come on brain, work!...bah...born with it, whatever...So his heart has been working harder than it should have to his whole life making the walls 2-3 times thicker than they should be. The heart had become progressively more weak, to the point that if they had moved on schedule (to Utah) Daddy would have died on the way there. I've never been more glad in my life that a body had pneumonia. He actually had pneumonia four times in three months, making his heart worse every time. The surgeon once again warned us that Daddy would be pale, puffy and hooked up to all kinds of machines and told us two or three times that we needed to talk to him saying he was fine, we were there and everything was going to be ok. The surgeon told us that dad would be able to hear us, but he would most likely not be able to respond...as we walked to the room I asked about recovery time and we were told about 5 days in hospital (2 in ICU) and at least 6 weeks of slow recovery.
We made it in to see him and he looked great for a guy that had his heart ripped out of his chest, played with and stuck back in. His color was beautiful, a little jaundiced, but vibrant. He's on a ventilator, so there's a tube down his throat. His nurse was very helpful and understanding, answering every question we threw at him to our satisfaction with a very reassuring tone. Mama kissed him and talked to him and his eyes twitched a little. I accused him of being the bionic man. (I played the roll of annoying jokester the entire night, and actually talked to him more than mama). I almost cried about Douglas. Poor child! He whispered something at Daddy and stepped back trying to melt into the wall. Mama chastised him and told him to touch Daddy, to which he replied "I'm fine!" with a look of terror in his eyes. I recognized the look and shot my own at mama - she knows my "shut it!" look by now. He couldn't stand to see his daddy, his hero laying there like that, much less touch him. I let Doodles melt backwards and mama play grand inquisitor to the nurse. I poked fun at Daddy and told him all kinds of stupid things that would normally get crazy varieties of reaction. I got a good twitch for it! We said bye to him as we were kicked out.
Now it was time to get Mama and brother out of the hospital for a while. Ran in to Target to grab a super soft big floppy dog for Daddy to cuddle. Then I took mama and Douglas to dinner. Sucks that Chili's was the best we could do. The food was mediocre as was the service. I kept the conversation light, changing it anytime Douglas couldn't take the talk about Daddy any more. Poor kid. His autism becomes so painfully apparent under stress. Back to the hospital.
Douglas chilled in the consult room (two sofas eight chairs nice and comfy private space for an upset family) while mama and I went in to see Daddy. For the most part this visit and the last one were the same. I joked and teased, interspersed with tons of encouragement and I love yous, told him what was on tv and challenged him to wake up and watch with me. Mama kissed him, told him she loved him, stroked his cheek and grilled the nurse. The reactions progressed. 2nd visit better twitches and a wink. Winks are different when you can't open your eyes. The 3rd and final visit of the night we got a few nods, a furrowed brow several winks and a great combination when I told him he had more hair than J. I think he even attempted to mouth "thank you" when I told him about all the fabulous people who don't know him who were thinking about him. Every visit was interspersed with phone calls to and from family and friends. Mama was excited that I could call Elisheba in England from my cell. I left after Doodle-bug went to sleep and Mama was relaxed enough to do the same.
Now I have to decorate my nephew's 1st birthday cake for tomorrow, so glad J baked the cakes while I was away. Thomas the train cake. I'm making RR ties out of Reese Sticks with reese's pieces gravel. Blah...
Now that I've emailed all the groups I posted to and list my mother had for me, I have a cocktail next to the keyboard and I'm forcing this out.
Daddy's going to live.
I didn't arrive at the hospital until just before they wheeled him into ICU recovery. My poor mother and brother had been at the hospital since 3.30am or so. Dad went in to surgery at 8.23. At 9.29 they had the vein out of his leg for the bypass. 10.37 they started on the valve replacement and continued working on that for nearly two hours. At 12.15 they began the bypass and finished up the valve by 1.29 when they started to close. His chest was being dressed at 2.17 and around 3pm he was in recovery. The surgeon came in to talk to Mama, Douglas and I shortly after. Now is when it gets scary. The surgeon opened with telling us his was by far the worst aortic valve he had ever seen. He's convinced it's a congenital defect...I think that's the right word, come on brain, work!...bah...born with it, whatever...So his heart has been working harder than it should have to his whole life making the walls 2-3 times thicker than they should be. The heart had become progressively more weak, to the point that if they had moved on schedule (to Utah) Daddy would have died on the way there. I've never been more glad in my life that a body had pneumonia. He actually had pneumonia four times in three months, making his heart worse every time. The surgeon once again warned us that Daddy would be pale, puffy and hooked up to all kinds of machines and told us two or three times that we needed to talk to him saying he was fine, we were there and everything was going to be ok. The surgeon told us that dad would be able to hear us, but he would most likely not be able to respond...as we walked to the room I asked about recovery time and we were told about 5 days in hospital (2 in ICU) and at least 6 weeks of slow recovery.
We made it in to see him and he looked great for a guy that had his heart ripped out of his chest, played with and stuck back in. His color was beautiful, a little jaundiced, but vibrant. He's on a ventilator, so there's a tube down his throat. His nurse was very helpful and understanding, answering every question we threw at him to our satisfaction with a very reassuring tone. Mama kissed him and talked to him and his eyes twitched a little. I accused him of being the bionic man. (I played the roll of annoying jokester the entire night, and actually talked to him more than mama). I almost cried about Douglas. Poor child! He whispered something at Daddy and stepped back trying to melt into the wall. Mama chastised him and told him to touch Daddy, to which he replied "I'm fine!" with a look of terror in his eyes. I recognized the look and shot my own at mama - she knows my "shut it!" look by now. He couldn't stand to see his daddy, his hero laying there like that, much less touch him. I let Doodles melt backwards and mama play grand inquisitor to the nurse. I poked fun at Daddy and told him all kinds of stupid things that would normally get crazy varieties of reaction. I got a good twitch for it! We said bye to him as we were kicked out.
Now it was time to get Mama and brother out of the hospital for a while. Ran in to Target to grab a super soft big floppy dog for Daddy to cuddle. Then I took mama and Douglas to dinner. Sucks that Chili's was the best we could do. The food was mediocre as was the service. I kept the conversation light, changing it anytime Douglas couldn't take the talk about Daddy any more. Poor kid. His autism becomes so painfully apparent under stress. Back to the hospital.
Douglas chilled in the consult room (two sofas eight chairs nice and comfy private space for an upset family) while mama and I went in to see Daddy. For the most part this visit and the last one were the same. I joked and teased, interspersed with tons of encouragement and I love yous, told him what was on tv and challenged him to wake up and watch with me. Mama kissed him, told him she loved him, stroked his cheek and grilled the nurse. The reactions progressed. 2nd visit better twitches and a wink. Winks are different when you can't open your eyes. The 3rd and final visit of the night we got a few nods, a furrowed brow several winks and a great combination when I told him he had more hair than J. I think he even attempted to mouth "thank you" when I told him about all the fabulous people who don't know him who were thinking about him. Every visit was interspersed with phone calls to and from family and friends. Mama was excited that I could call Elisheba in England from my cell. I left after Doodle-bug went to sleep and Mama was relaxed enough to do the same.
Now I have to decorate my nephew's 1st birthday cake for tomorrow, so glad J baked the cakes while I was away. Thomas the train cake. I'm making RR ties out of Reese Sticks with reese's pieces gravel. Blah...