My dad got assaulted at a rest stop while he and my mother stopped to use the bathroom. The attacker walked away and continued living his life, while my mother rushed my father to the hospital. He needed surgery to fix a disk in his neck which was pushing on his spinal column. If he didn't opt to get surgery, he was at risk of becoming paralyzed. My dad had undergone dozens of surgeries in his lifetime, so we didn't think twice about it being a big deal. After his surgery, the doctor informed my mom that he wasn't coming out of the anesthesia.
He was placed in the ICU and was intubated. None of his organs were working. His brain wasn't telling his organs what they needed to be doing. His kidneys stopped working, and he now required dialysis. His body could barely handle the dialysis. He was unresponsive. Even when his eyes were open, they couldn't focus. Test after test, scan after scan, they coudn't find what was wrong. They performed a tracheostomy so that the breathing tube wouldn't be down his throat anymore. He also got ex-lap surgery where they found that his colon was perforated and he would have an ostomy bag. He was septic, and could have died had my mom not informed the doctors that he hadn't gone to the bathroom in almost two weeks. Isn't it the doctors job to monitor that? Moving on...
After a month in the ICU, the doctors determined that he needed to be transferred to a different hospital which would be better suited to his needs. He was transferred to a long-term acute care hospital. Within a few weeks, my father was awake and breathing on his own. He tried to speak, but with the trach, it was difficult to hear and understand him. One of the things we heard as clear as day was "I love you." My dad told us he loved us so many times. He was now ready for physical therapy. After being in a hospital bed for over two months, his muscles needed serious work. Things were finally heading in the right direction.
We get a call late at night saying my dad had a fever of 105. But the doctors "take his temp every two hours". How does someones temp jump that high that fast? Clearly, the nurses were not concerned with his upkeep. He was put back on the ventilator and had a "mystery" infection. After several weeks, the nurses still could not find out what this infection was. He was septic again, and still required dialysis, which his body could handle less and less. He got the flu, and pneumonia.
We got another call Christmas morning saying that my dad coded. They were able to keep him alive. We rushed to the hospital and my dad was on two new medication drips for his blood pressure, which averaged around 70/30. A day later, the nurses and doctors were all talking about my dad as if he were already dead. But he wasn't. He was laying there in front of us.... my dad. The best man in my life. The strongest man I'd ever known. He survived two kidney transplants and heart surgery, among all his other health complications. He was a fighter. I prayed for months. God would not take him. He was only 66. How could God take the life of a man who was perfectly healthy until some waste of a human life came and assaulted him? Not my dad. God would not allow his life to end like this.
My mom and sister and I stood around talking to my dad bedside. We noticed his blood pressure getting lower as the minutes passed. Finally his heart rate monitor started beeping. His oxygenation got lower and lower. The time between his heart beats grew longer and longer. We watched the nurses rush in to perform CPR as my family and I cried and screamed in horror, begging God to keep my dad alive. God would not take him. God would NOT take him.
The nurse came in and informed us of his passing. I remember screaming so loud... how could this be? Why God, why? My sister ripped at anything she could get her hands on. Her anger got the best of her. I collapsed onto the floor with my mom, unable to stop screaming and crying.
I still don't think I've processed everything. I can't believe my dad won't be coming home. It just doesn't feel real. How could God take him from me and my family? He was so young.... I am still so young. I need my dad. We have so much left to do. I don't understand how he can just be gone. I can't process the fact that he won't be coming home to us. I feel like I can still just drive to the hospital and visit him. His funeral, everything.. it all just seems so surreal. Like a nightmare or something I can't wake up from. I'm so angry. I feel guilty. I feel the worst pain I've ever felt in my life. I know he doesn't want to see me in pain, but I can' help it. I miss him so much.
