Saturday, February 25, 2006, was, to the best of my recollection, a regular day. I slept in. Once up, I don't really remember doing much. I think I went to the grocery because I definitely remember cooking that afternoon.
I had started Weight Watchers on January 3, and was actually still struggling with it at this time, even two months in. Anyway, I was trying a recipe someone had told me about. By the time I had it in the oven a former friend of mine (current then, but former now) called and asked if I wanted to join some others that evening. I said sure, I could save the meal I was making. Frankly, I'm not opposed to left-overs, especially if it's something good.
So, I ended up doing something (what, I don't remember) that afternoon, and headed out later.
Once there, it was around 6 p.m. or so. It had to be at least that late because I do remember it was dark. Before I went in, I decided to call Dad since I wasn't sure how late I would be out.
I think we actually talked for a long time, longer than we had any night since I had come back to Lexington after his surgery. We didn't talk about anything in particular, we just chatted. I loved having those kinds of conversations with him. Inevitably we would get to laughing over something silly. One thing that really got him going was the TV commercial for the movie "The Shaggy Dog." It was on while we were talking and he got to laughing at it. He told me there was no way he would be able to see it because he'd pop his incision open from laughing so hard. It was funny to me because he'd laugh, and then in between breaths he'd go, "Oh, Oh" like he was in pain and then he'd get to laughing again. My Dad had a great laugh.
Ultimately we ended the call. I told him I was sorry that I didn't come in that weekend, but that I would see him the next weekend. He said that was okay and that he looked forward to it.
I told him that I loved him. He said, "I love you, too."
I hung up and went on with my night.
It was the last time I spoke to him.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
February 23-24, 2006
That Thursday, Feb. 23, Dad still didn't get to go home, but when I talked to him he said he was still feeling really well and was really looking forward to going home.
On the afternoon of Friday, Feb. 24, I was working and my cell phone rang. I typically don't answer it while at work, but noticed it was home, so I answered expecting Mom. After I said, "Hello," I heard my Dad say, "WWWWWWAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUPPPPPPPPP!!!" You know, like those guys did in those old Bud commercials?
It was obvious that Dad was feeling really well that day. And he told me that he was home.
That was a great feeling. He was home finally, he was feeling well, and he was in great spirits.
We talked for a little while longer and then I got back to work. I actually considered just driving home that day after work instead of waiting a week, but I stuck with the original plan. I called Dad again that night and I slept well.
There was, however, one thing bothering me. I was scheduled to go in a few weeks to the NCAA Division I Wrestling Championships in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, for work. When I got back to work after Dad's surgery, I told my boss that I needed someone else to go for me, because I didn't want to be that far away from Dad until I knew his recovery was complete. That was just going to be too soon after for me. I had been in that position before. When I was working with UK Athletics I was in Texas with the women's gymnastics team. During the trip, Dad had emergency gallbladder surgery. It was a tough time because I wasn't able to get back quickly. Luckily, he was fine. However, I didn't want that to happen again. But my boss said there was no one else to go, and that I had to.
But at the time, Dad was good, so life was good.
On the afternoon of Friday, Feb. 24, I was working and my cell phone rang. I typically don't answer it while at work, but noticed it was home, so I answered expecting Mom. After I said, "Hello," I heard my Dad say, "WWWWWWAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSUUUUUUPPPPPPPPP!!!" You know, like those guys did in those old Bud commercials?
It was obvious that Dad was feeling really well that day. And he told me that he was home.
That was a great feeling. He was home finally, he was feeling well, and he was in great spirits.
We talked for a little while longer and then I got back to work. I actually considered just driving home that day after work instead of waiting a week, but I stuck with the original plan. I called Dad again that night and I slept well.
There was, however, one thing bothering me. I was scheduled to go in a few weeks to the NCAA Division I Wrestling Championships in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, for work. When I got back to work after Dad's surgery, I told my boss that I needed someone else to go for me, because I didn't want to be that far away from Dad until I knew his recovery was complete. That was just going to be too soon after for me. I had been in that position before. When I was working with UK Athletics I was in Texas with the women's gymnastics team. During the trip, Dad had emergency gallbladder surgery. It was a tough time because I wasn't able to get back quickly. Luckily, he was fine. However, I didn't want that to happen again. But my boss said there was no one else to go, and that I had to.
But at the time, Dad was good, so life was good.
Friday, February 22, 2008
February 22, 2006
Monday and Tuesday (Feb. 20-21) weren't great days. By that I mean I was at work but all I could think about was Dad. Everyone there kept coming up to me asking me how he was doing. Which was nice, but didn't help with the trying not to think about it.
But I did my work as best I could and kept living on. You have to.
Again, Wednesday, Feb. 22, was the same. I got through the day and went home. I was hoping with all hope that Dad would be home this day. There were some thoughts by his doctor that he might be able to go home by then, but unfortunately, they wanted to keep him around a few more days.
The worst part of that day was that it was Dad's birthday and he had to spend it in the hospital. However, when I spoke to him, which I had done everyday since I left, he sounded good, he was laughing, he said things were going well and that he felt better every day.
This made me feel good. But what I decided around this time, since he wasn't going to get to go home now until probably Friday, Feb. 24, was that I wouldn't drive in that weekend. I decided it would be best to just let Mom get him home and settled and then the next weekend I could come in and hang out with him.
That was his last birthday.
He was 59.
But I did my work as best I could and kept living on. You have to.
Again, Wednesday, Feb. 22, was the same. I got through the day and went home. I was hoping with all hope that Dad would be home this day. There were some thoughts by his doctor that he might be able to go home by then, but unfortunately, they wanted to keep him around a few more days.
The worst part of that day was that it was Dad's birthday and he had to spend it in the hospital. However, when I spoke to him, which I had done everyday since I left, he sounded good, he was laughing, he said things were going well and that he felt better every day.
This made me feel good. But what I decided around this time, since he wasn't going to get to go home now until probably Friday, Feb. 24, was that I wouldn't drive in that weekend. I decided it would be best to just let Mom get him home and settled and then the next weekend I could come in and hang out with him.
That was his last birthday.
He was 59.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
February 18-19, 2006
This day was a good one. Saturday. Dad was a lot better and eventually got into a private room. I even remember him walking that day. Crazy, right? I mean barely two days later? And he was handling it well.
That evening when he was taking his first walk, Mom and I went down to the gift shop again. The shop had these small dog replicas. I mean like fit in the palm of your hand small. They weren't exactly bobbleheads, but the heads of them did flop up and down. Anyway, they had one of a Golden Retriever puppy that looked exactly like Sammy. So, Mom bought it for him.
When we got back upstairs to Dad's room he was just getting back from the walk and was worn out. Frankly, I don't see how he did it, but he did. He was strong that way.
The nurses and therapist got him back into his bed and once he got settles Mom told him that she had something for him. She pulled it out of the bag, and like a child on Christmas morning, my Dad's eyes lit up and he said, "Sammy!!" You know, it's little things like that you never think about much until they are gone.
He ended up having a few visitors that day and finally, in his usual fashion, he told me and Mom to go home, that there was no sense in us sitting there until late. So we headed out around 9 or so.
The next day, Sunday, he had another great day. He was recovering nicely, although he still had his chest tube in, but I believe by this point his IV was removed. The chest tube was the last connection to the surgery he had.
He was in good spirits. I had driven myself to the hospital this day because I was planning to go back to Lexington so I could get back to work on Monday. Mom and I went out at one point, grabbed a bite and went to Barnes and Noble, where she got a coffee and we talked about his recovery and how it would be at home.
Mom was still working at the time and once he got home she knew that she wouldn't be able to devote the time necessary to take care of him during the day. Luckily, they would probably have some home health come in during the days to check on him. This is where I should have stepped up and offered to stay a little longer. But for some reason I felt obligated to Host Communications. A company that certainly ended up letting me down.
Anyway, we got back to the hospital. I visited with Dad some more. Around 4 o'clock he was dozing off and I knew he was ready to take a nap and I wanted to get back to Lexington before it got too late. So before he went to sleep I let him know I was going. I hugged and kissed him as usual, told him I loved him and that I would see him again soon. He said the same. I grabbed my bag and Mom walked me out. I don't remember what we said to one another but I know I hated leaving. It hurt. At the time I didn't know why. I think now that it was because I was still scared.
I put my bag in the car and drove away.
I never saw Dad alive again.
That evening when he was taking his first walk, Mom and I went down to the gift shop again. The shop had these small dog replicas. I mean like fit in the palm of your hand small. They weren't exactly bobbleheads, but the heads of them did flop up and down. Anyway, they had one of a Golden Retriever puppy that looked exactly like Sammy. So, Mom bought it for him.
When we got back upstairs to Dad's room he was just getting back from the walk and was worn out. Frankly, I don't see how he did it, but he did. He was strong that way.
The nurses and therapist got him back into his bed and once he got settles Mom told him that she had something for him. She pulled it out of the bag, and like a child on Christmas morning, my Dad's eyes lit up and he said, "Sammy!!" You know, it's little things like that you never think about much until they are gone.
He ended up having a few visitors that day and finally, in his usual fashion, he told me and Mom to go home, that there was no sense in us sitting there until late. So we headed out around 9 or so.
The next day, Sunday, he had another great day. He was recovering nicely, although he still had his chest tube in, but I believe by this point his IV was removed. The chest tube was the last connection to the surgery he had.
He was in good spirits. I had driven myself to the hospital this day because I was planning to go back to Lexington so I could get back to work on Monday. Mom and I went out at one point, grabbed a bite and went to Barnes and Noble, where she got a coffee and we talked about his recovery and how it would be at home.
Mom was still working at the time and once he got home she knew that she wouldn't be able to devote the time necessary to take care of him during the day. Luckily, they would probably have some home health come in during the days to check on him. This is where I should have stepped up and offered to stay a little longer. But for some reason I felt obligated to Host Communications. A company that certainly ended up letting me down.
Anyway, we got back to the hospital. I visited with Dad some more. Around 4 o'clock he was dozing off and I knew he was ready to take a nap and I wanted to get back to Lexington before it got too late. So before he went to sleep I let him know I was going. I hugged and kissed him as usual, told him I loved him and that I would see him again soon. He said the same. I grabbed my bag and Mom walked me out. I don't remember what we said to one another but I know I hated leaving. It hurt. At the time I didn't know why. I think now that it was because I was still scared.
I put my bag in the car and drove away.
I never saw Dad alive again.
My Short Film
This post is going to seem a little bit out of place in the midst of some other pretty heavy posts, but I finally got a digital copy of the short film I wrote and directed, "The Obituaries." This film was produced while in the Filmmaking Certificate Program at Bluegrass Community and Technical College in the Fall of 2007. It is obviously a student film. But while there are things that I would have liked to have done differently, I'm still very proud of it.
Anyway, have a look and then hit me with some feedback. I'm trying to get better, so critical feedback is always good. By the way, I'd say it's a weak PG-13.
Hope you enjoy watching it as much as I enjoyed making it.
Anyway, have a look and then hit me with some feedback. I'm trying to get better, so critical feedback is always good. By the way, I'd say it's a weak PG-13.
Hope you enjoy watching it as much as I enjoyed making it.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
February 17, 2006
I must say I did sleep a little easier that night. Of course, Dad wasn't out of danger yet, but he had survived the surgery, so that had to be a good thing. However, he wasn't off the ventilator yet, so we didn't rush back in that morning. Besides, we had decided that it wasn't fair to Sammy to leave him at the house all day while we are at the hospital, and being so young and not house-broken yet, we couldn't impose on anyone to take him. So, we decided that it would be best to kennel him until Dad could get back home and felt like taking care of him again. And this way, he could run and play with other puppies. So, that morning we took him to his vet's hospital, where they also had a kennel. This was a good situation because he still needed a couple of shots and they could give them to him while he was there.
After dropping Sammy off, we headed to the hospital. When we got there, we plopped down in a corner and awaited the first visiting hour. Again, I had taken my computer so I had plenty to do.
At one point, an older gentleman walked up to us and introduced himself as a representative of the Mended Hearts Chapter 107. This is a group of folks who have gone through open-heart surgery. He talked to us about groups that we could join that would help us get through the recovery and maintain Dad's health. He also gave us a pillow to give to Dad.
This was for Dad to use when he coughed or moved or laughed, etc. He was to hold it against his incision to help prevent it from opening and ease the pain a little.
A cousin of mine, who was doing some student social work at the hospital stopped by to see how Dad was. We were talking and I told her about Sammy, and we got to talking about how great Sammy would be for Dad's recovery once he got home and settled.
Finally, the ventilator was removed and when we went in to see Dad, it was awful. He had absolutely no color. He was inclined as far up in a sitting position as the bed would allow. He was breathing hard but sounded as if he couldn't catch his breath. Of course, breathing hurt too much. He couldn't have anything to drink so Mom had to keep wetting this small swab for him to suck on. I had seen Dad in a bad way a lot in my life, but never had I seen him suffering as much as he was then. Of course, I knew what had caused it, but it didn't make it any easier to see him that way.
We didn't stay in the room long, and by the end of the day, I was ready to head home. I didn't want to leave him, but I just couldn't see him that way anymore.
I hoped the next day would be a lot better.
After dropping Sammy off, we headed to the hospital. When we got there, we plopped down in a corner and awaited the first visiting hour. Again, I had taken my computer so I had plenty to do.
At one point, an older gentleman walked up to us and introduced himself as a representative of the Mended Hearts Chapter 107. This is a group of folks who have gone through open-heart surgery. He talked to us about groups that we could join that would help us get through the recovery and maintain Dad's health. He also gave us a pillow to give to Dad.
This was for Dad to use when he coughed or moved or laughed, etc. He was to hold it against his incision to help prevent it from opening and ease the pain a little.
A cousin of mine, who was doing some student social work at the hospital stopped by to see how Dad was. We were talking and I told her about Sammy, and we got to talking about how great Sammy would be for Dad's recovery once he got home and settled.
Finally, the ventilator was removed and when we went in to see Dad, it was awful. He had absolutely no color. He was inclined as far up in a sitting position as the bed would allow. He was breathing hard but sounded as if he couldn't catch his breath. Of course, breathing hurt too much. He couldn't have anything to drink so Mom had to keep wetting this small swab for him to suck on. I had seen Dad in a bad way a lot in my life, but never had I seen him suffering as much as he was then. Of course, I knew what had caused it, but it didn't make it any easier to see him that way.
We didn't stay in the room long, and by the end of the day, I was ready to head home. I didn't want to leave him, but I just couldn't see him that way anymore.
I hoped the next day would be a lot better.
Monday, February 18, 2008
February 16, 2006
The day of my Dad's heart surgery came around really quickly. Of course, we had to be there at 5:30 a.m., so we had to get up much earlier to make it to the hospital by then.
By the time I was up, showered, dressed and had taken care of Sammy, I was already beat. And scared to death.
My Dad had been through so many surgeries in his life, with each new one he, himself, was concerned his body couldn't take another. And it wasn't difficult for me to think that surgery on his most vital organ could be the last straw. But I tried to stay positive if for no other reason than my Mom.
After we got there, a nurse escorted us -- me, my Mom, my grandpa (paternal) and three of my Dad's sisters -- into the Cardiac ICU to be with Dad prior to them taking him back.
When we got there, there were hugs all around. Dad was telling us about getting prepared for surgery. Even at times like this, he was full of good humor. "They shaved me from the tip of my chin to the crack of ass!" He had us all in stitches (pardon the pun).
Soon after, the pastor from our church in Henderson arrived. I don't attend church regularly. I was raised in the church, however, and have a strong faith. And while I don't pray everyday, these types of moments always help. So, Brother Todd said a prayer, we all said, "Amen," and continued our conversations until the nurse came to let us know how things would happen from that point on.
And then they were ready. We stepped outside the room as they wheeled Dad toward the hallway. When we got there, the orderlies stopped to give us another opportunity to say what we needed to say. I let my grandpa and aunts go first. Actually, I think one of my Dad's brothers had arrived by this time, as well. Then I stepped up. As I've said before, my Dad had become my best friend over the previous few years. As I've said before, losing my Dad was my greatest fear in life at that time. Of course, I think everyone was crying at this point, even Dad. I leaned over hugged him and gave him a kiss on the check. I told him I loved him. After Mom had her say, the orderlies wheeled him away.
That was when the worrying began in earnest.
The doctors and nurses try to give you an idea of how long a surgery will take, but they are never right. Sometimes it ends sooner, sometimes it takes longer. Regardless, when you are waiting and don't know what's going on, the time drags by.
My family and I secured a corner of the waiting room. I had brought along my laptop. Thankfully, the hospital has wireless Internet so I was able to check/write e-mails and just play around to take my mind off of things. I would have read, but I didn't have the patience for that in that situation.
I had started Weight Watchers in early January of that year and my aunts were asking me about how it worked. So, that took a little while to discuss.
By about 9 a.m., I was hungry, so my grandpa and I went to the cafeteria. I hadn't and unfortunately still don't see him that often, so it was really nice to spend some time with him, just the two of us.
We talked about a number of things that unfortunately the past two years have caused me to forget. However, one thing I definitely remember was our discussion of milk gravy. See, we were having breakfast and each of us had gotten some biscuits and gravy. I love biscuits and gravy, and yes, I remember I said that I was on Weight Watchers, but I figured what was happening that day was a "Get Out of Weight Watchers Free" card. Anyway, my Dad was a great cook. I think once he retired, he cooked more than my Mom, and I'm sure she didn't mind. She was a fan of his cooking, too. But his breakfasts were out of this world. He cooked everything. Fried Potatoes. Scrambled Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. Biscuits. And homemade Milk Gravy. I loved that gravy. So every time he cooked it, I would tell him that I needed him to show me how to do it. And every time he would tell me to watch him then and I'd know how. So, I mentioned this to my grandpa. Since he had taught my Dad, he began to tell me. And then he added, that Dad could show me how to do it when he got better.
As I said, the day dragged on. It got to the point that I had to walk around a little, so I went to the gift shop. And I found one of the greatest things in the world there. Have you ever had a Cow Tail? It's a candy, like a rope, of caramel with a white cream center. There also is a version that is not a rope. They are simply called caramel creams.
Except the ones I found were strawberry. And they were good.
Anyway, I was in the gift shop buying some of this candy when one of my aunts told me the doctor was ready to see us.
Holy crap...
We all went into the small "c0nference" room and awaited his arrival. Like most doctors, once he showed up, he was brief and to the point.
He told he it took a little while longer than they had expected because one of the veins they were going to use to bypass split a little so they had to do it again. But it was successful, and the doc said that Dad had the heart of a young man despite the fact he was 58. Although, 58 isn't old. Doc was pleased and felt that Dad would be doing very well in his recovery.
At least that was over. Now we had to wait for Dad to wake up.
We were able to see him in his ICU room even before he woke up, with all the tubes and breathing apparatus attached. And it would hopefully be that night that they would take the breathing tube out. It seems like I remember him in his bed, which was inclined a bit, still unconscious, with nothing but the sounds of the monitors beeping, the machines whirring and the ventilator doing it's thing. Dad had the control to a morphine pump which he continued to keep depressed.
But he was alive and doing well, considering.
And then we went home.
By the time I was up, showered, dressed and had taken care of Sammy, I was already beat. And scared to death.
My Dad had been through so many surgeries in his life, with each new one he, himself, was concerned his body couldn't take another. And it wasn't difficult for me to think that surgery on his most vital organ could be the last straw. But I tried to stay positive if for no other reason than my Mom.
After we got there, a nurse escorted us -- me, my Mom, my grandpa (paternal) and three of my Dad's sisters -- into the Cardiac ICU to be with Dad prior to them taking him back.
When we got there, there were hugs all around. Dad was telling us about getting prepared for surgery. Even at times like this, he was full of good humor. "They shaved me from the tip of my chin to the crack of ass!" He had us all in stitches (pardon the pun).
Soon after, the pastor from our church in Henderson arrived. I don't attend church regularly. I was raised in the church, however, and have a strong faith. And while I don't pray everyday, these types of moments always help. So, Brother Todd said a prayer, we all said, "Amen," and continued our conversations until the nurse came to let us know how things would happen from that point on.
And then they were ready. We stepped outside the room as they wheeled Dad toward the hallway. When we got there, the orderlies stopped to give us another opportunity to say what we needed to say. I let my grandpa and aunts go first. Actually, I think one of my Dad's brothers had arrived by this time, as well. Then I stepped up. As I've said before, my Dad had become my best friend over the previous few years. As I've said before, losing my Dad was my greatest fear in life at that time. Of course, I think everyone was crying at this point, even Dad. I leaned over hugged him and gave him a kiss on the check. I told him I loved him. After Mom had her say, the orderlies wheeled him away.
That was when the worrying began in earnest.
The doctors and nurses try to give you an idea of how long a surgery will take, but they are never right. Sometimes it ends sooner, sometimes it takes longer. Regardless, when you are waiting and don't know what's going on, the time drags by.
My family and I secured a corner of the waiting room. I had brought along my laptop. Thankfully, the hospital has wireless Internet so I was able to check/write e-mails and just play around to take my mind off of things. I would have read, but I didn't have the patience for that in that situation.
I had started Weight Watchers in early January of that year and my aunts were asking me about how it worked. So, that took a little while to discuss.
By about 9 a.m., I was hungry, so my grandpa and I went to the cafeteria. I hadn't and unfortunately still don't see him that often, so it was really nice to spend some time with him, just the two of us.
We talked about a number of things that unfortunately the past two years have caused me to forget. However, one thing I definitely remember was our discussion of milk gravy. See, we were having breakfast and each of us had gotten some biscuits and gravy. I love biscuits and gravy, and yes, I remember I said that I was on Weight Watchers, but I figured what was happening that day was a "Get Out of Weight Watchers Free" card. Anyway, my Dad was a great cook. I think once he retired, he cooked more than my Mom, and I'm sure she didn't mind. She was a fan of his cooking, too. But his breakfasts were out of this world. He cooked everything. Fried Potatoes. Scrambled Eggs. Bacon. Sausage. Biscuits. And homemade Milk Gravy. I loved that gravy. So every time he cooked it, I would tell him that I needed him to show me how to do it. And every time he would tell me to watch him then and I'd know how. So, I mentioned this to my grandpa. Since he had taught my Dad, he began to tell me. And then he added, that Dad could show me how to do it when he got better.
As I said, the day dragged on. It got to the point that I had to walk around a little, so I went to the gift shop. And I found one of the greatest things in the world there. Have you ever had a Cow Tail? It's a candy, like a rope, of caramel with a white cream center. There also is a version that is not a rope. They are simply called caramel creams.
Except the ones I found were strawberry. And they were good.
Anyway, I was in the gift shop buying some of this candy when one of my aunts told me the doctor was ready to see us.
Holy crap...
We all went into the small "c0nference" room and awaited his arrival. Like most doctors, once he showed up, he was brief and to the point.
He told he it took a little while longer than they had expected because one of the veins they were going to use to bypass split a little so they had to do it again. But it was successful, and the doc said that Dad had the heart of a young man despite the fact he was 58. Although, 58 isn't old. Doc was pleased and felt that Dad would be doing very well in his recovery.
At least that was over. Now we had to wait for Dad to wake up.
We were able to see him in his ICU room even before he woke up, with all the tubes and breathing apparatus attached. And it would hopefully be that night that they would take the breathing tube out. It seems like I remember him in his bed, which was inclined a bit, still unconscious, with nothing but the sounds of the monitors beeping, the machines whirring and the ventilator doing it's thing. Dad had the control to a morphine pump which he continued to keep depressed.
But he was alive and doing well, considering.
And then we went home.
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