At the end of March, on Good Friday, I got a phone call from my mom. My dad had been re-admitted to Froedtert Hospital on the Tuesday prior (March 26), and they had continued to monitor his heart failure. The news I got on Good Friday was good-- Good news for my dad's overall health, but certainly trying news for him and the rest of the family. My dad had decided to go through with the LVAD surgery that had been proposed to him about a month earlier. Essentially, he was out of options and if he wanted to regain any quality of life (and, more importantly, simply live), then he would have to undergo open-heart surgery to install a device to assist his heart in pumping blood, an LVAD or Left-Ventricular Assist Device.
The Good News--He would have the surgery, and the surgery would be soon. I took a few hours to collect my thoughts, arrange for my mother-in-law's presence in exchange for my absence, and I bought a ticket from Denver to Milwaukee so that I could join my mom and my brother to be with my dad for his surgery and immediate recovery.
When Scout woke up on Saturday morning, I told her that I'd be leaving for a few days and Grandma was going to come and stay with her. She asked where I was going and sweetly asked if she could come with me. That morning, Cory and the girls drove me down to Denver and dropped me off at the airport. It was the first time I'd flown alone since before Scout was born. My nerves were shot, and by the time I landed in the puddle-jumper from Minneapolis to Milwaukee, I was so darn glad to be on the ground I could have thrown my arms around the nearest TSA agent. My mom picked me up at the airport, and if you know my mom, this was an achievement in and of itself. She told me, "If Dad can agree to have the surgery, then I can drive to the airport."
When I arrived at the hospital that Saturday night, Dad looked good and was in relatively good spirits. Mom and I returned to Sheboygan that night, and mom made us grilled cheese sandwiches while we caught up in my parents' familiar living room. Our sentiments were the same: We were so glad that he was going through with it, but we were so nervous about the long road ahead for everyone involved.
On Easter Sunday, we returned to the hospital. Later that day, Jake arrived. As somber as the reunion could have been, it wasn't like that at all. We all visited and joked. We helped dad fill out various paperwork, including a True/False assessment of my dad's mental health. Silly as it sounds, the test included such phrases as, "I feel sad when I think about my health." That statement is neither odd nor humorous. However, every few statements, there would be an interesting one: "I have been on the cover of several magazines in recent months." All of us seemed to get a giggle out of that 160 statement assessment. It helped to pass the time, too.
On Sunday night, Mom, Jake and I spent the night at a nearby Holiday Inn Express, courtesy of a kind friend of Jake's. We all enjoyed a dinner together at PF Chang's, and chatted about life and the upcoming surgery. On Monday, it was official: Dad's surgery would be on Tuesday. Most of Monday was spent preparing for the surgery: having different consultations with doctors, filling out paperwork, learning more about the device that would be installed. Somewhere, during the course of our time in Milwaukee, we had communicated with my Aunt Michelle and Uncle Bob and they had generously offered us a place to stay in nearby Menomonee Falls. That Monday night, we left the hospital around 8:15 pm with the intention to return early in the morning before Dad left for surgery. We crashed at Bob & Michelle's house after having a few frozen pizzas and calming down the dogs.
At 5:30 am, we were at the hospital in the Cardiovascular ICU to see my dad off. He really looked good and from all of his statements seemed in good spirits. From there, we went to the hospital's Family Center where we would receive updates throughout the day. At 6:30 am or so, we ventured down to the cafeteria to grab some coffee and breakfast. After we returned to our cubicle in the Family Center, we got a phone call around 8:45 am: Surgery had started about 15 minutes ago. Updates would come via the phone in our cubicle: The device was installed. He was on bypass and the doctors were waiting to see how the right-side of his heart responded. Everything was going well and they'd close soon. The surgeon visited with us in a private room around 2:30 pm. We listened attentively as he said that things had gone well--better than expected--but his heart was very sick and he was far from out of the woods. The surgeon expected a full twelve-week recovery, not all of which would necessarily take place in the hospital. We were also visited by his cardiology team at 3:30, and then we finally saw him at 4:30 pm. He looked pale, bloated and completely out-of-it. Despite the preparation we received, it was awfully difficult to see him laying there all covered up with dozens of canulas and catheters protruding out from under the covers. I remember one of the members of his cardiology team, Emily, showing me the "device"--a small black canvas bag that now housed a battery pack and monitor. All I could think was, "This is it?"
This was an emotionally draining day, and on top of that, we'd all had very little sleep. When we returned to Bob & Michelle's, we ate dinner and crashed. On Wednesday the 3rd, he was still intubated, but he was aware of us. He rolled his eyes quite often to let us know if he was displeased with something! Once the tube was removed, he could communicate again, but his voice was hoarse. Overall, his color was good. So began the road to recovery. My mom, Jake and I became one of the dozens if not hundreds of visitors in the hospital. Each day involved riding elevators, visiting the hospital cafeteria, schlepping in and out of the CVICU, and driving around in seemingly endless circles to get in and out of the parking garage. It's amazing how exhausting it is to sit around and do nothing at a hospital. We made a few phone calls here and there, and my mom's brother and sister-in-law paid us a visit. The days dragged by quickly, if you know what I mean.
Over the next few days, Dad had some setbacks. The breathing tube had caused some inflammation in his throat, and that made it difficult for him to swallow. Due to low sodium levels, his liquids would be restricted. He got up to stand for the first time on Thursday with the help of the physical therapist. On Friday, he stood three times, but he was wobbly. By Saturday morning, he had a catheter inserted in his groin so that he could receive continuous dialysis. The groin catheter meant that he could not bend at the hips, making it difficult for him to sit up for his meals. Coupled with the inflammation in his throat, this made eating very difficult. PT was put on hold. He was growing weaker due to lack of calories. Later on, this catheter would be moved to his neck, but he still had to work at eating--he didn't have much of an appetite. If you know my dad, this is a sure sign that he just isn't feeling good.
My return flight to Denver was on Saturday April 6th. I left with a lot of mixed feelings. Certainly, I worried about my dad and his continued progress, but I needed to go home and take care of my family. Cory and the girls greeted me at the airport, and it was a sweet homecoming. The girls were wearing their pajamas and they were sporting the fleeces that the Easter Bunny had brought them while I was away. That night, I got to visit with my mother-in-law and thank her for all of her hard work and time. In typical fashion, acting as if dropping everything in her week to come and care for her grandkids was nothing at all, she simply said that they'd had a good week and she was happy that I could be with my family during this special time.
The next day, Sunday the 7th, we spent hanging out as our little family of four. Grandma Margie said goodbye to the girls and headed out before 9 am, and Cory had a leisurely day planned. He wanted to make it to the garden store, and offered to buy me some pansies. The following week went by in a blur. My mom returned to work on the 8th and some generous friends drove her down to the hospital on those Monday and Tuesday evenings. My aunt and uncle again hosted my mom all weekend long. One thing is certain, the outpouring of support for my parents has been enormous. My mom has been given gas cards, cash, gift cards to eateries, and even a very large gift card to a local grocery store from her colleagues at work. Neighbors, extended family, co-workers, friends, and even friends of mine and Jake's have all extended themselves and made my mom feel very supported.
The news of my dad continues. Today I contacted him directly on his cell phone and he sounded good but tired. He'll have some more visitors--my brother will be back in town and my mom plans to spend the weekend visiting. He's still in the Cardiovascular ICU and he'll likely be there for a few more days. Ultimately, he'll be cared for in the cardiac wing, and he'll probably be there for several more weeks. At the beginning of this, the doctors told him he'd likely need at least 8 weeks in the hospital for recovery. He's already been in the hospital since March 26, and he's now spent 2 weeks living with his new device. It's a long road, and I'm sure the time must pass slowly for him. This past week, he was moved to a room with a window and my mom thinks the natural light is helping lift his spirits. As his condition improves, he'll likely see more visitors which will surely brighten his stay as well.
This tale could not be told without the work of many individuals at Froedtert Hospital. Overall, my mom has great things to say about the care that my dad is receiving. With regards to his cardiology team specifically, my mom said that talking with those folks always made her feel better. These professionals have a way of making my mom feel as though my dad is in the best hands possible, and that gives her peace of mind. I'm sure the road to recovery will have some bumps here and there, but my mom told me today that when she saw Dr. Nunzio yesterday (not to play favorites, but my dad really "clicked" with Dr. Nunzio) that he told her that he feels my dad has turned the corner. I confirmed this with my dad when I talked with him today. Yay for good news!
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| Me and my sillies, taken today |
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