Part of the Blog Dare on Bloggy Moms!
There's a lot of things I could base this on. When I found out I was pregnant, when I found out she was a girl, etc.
But I want to step out of the box and write about something not mom related.
This is dad related.
And when I mean dad, I mean my dad.
This is the story of when I found out my dad needed heart surgery.
A few days before Christmas, my dad had been having chest pains. Being your typical stubborn man, he played it off as something non-important. Unfortunately, it was very important, and he was convinced (read: TOLD) to go to the hospital to be checked out.
His EKG was normal, but his blood work came back saying he was having a heart attack, and needed to be transported to a better facility.
The next day, my stepmother calls me, and tells me that he would be needing open heart surgery.
I used to scoff when I heard the line "time stood still" when something major happened. But I won't anymore, because it DID feel like time had stopped. I had to sit down and catch my breath, because my father was the last man on Earth I'd expected to be going through this. He is the most active hardass on the planet, and for this to bring him down was a huge eye opener for everyone.
I'd seen enough medical shows and dramas (Grey's Anatomy addict alert) to know that open heart surgery was not ideal. I've seen videos of the procedure. Knowing my dad was about to go through all of that scared the hell out of me. He's only in his mid forties, he's too young to need all that done!
I also knew that the situation was serious, if he needed that surgery. It meant my father's life was in danger. I ultimately found out the details, but that's for another post.
I wanted to cry, but I did not. I didn't cry because my little sister was doing enough of that for the both of us, and I knew that my dad wouldn't want us to be scared, as he was scared enough for everyone.
I don't pray often but I spent the rest of the day begging God not to take my dad, because I knew my family would not be able to handle another loss, especially the man who was our rock.
He did make it through the surgery, and is recovering at home. The recovery will take up to a year, as they had to break open his breastbone and a few ribs to get to the heart.
This was THE scariest time of my life so far. And it's made me change a lot of habits, because I do not want to be going through the same thing 20 years from now.
There's a lot of things I could base this on. When I found out I was pregnant, when I found out she was a girl, etc.
But I want to step out of the box and write about something not mom related.
This is dad related.
And when I mean dad, I mean my dad.
This is the story of when I found out my dad needed heart surgery.
A few days before Christmas, my dad had been having chest pains. Being your typical stubborn man, he played it off as something non-important. Unfortunately, it was very important, and he was convinced (read: TOLD) to go to the hospital to be checked out.
His EKG was normal, but his blood work came back saying he was having a heart attack, and needed to be transported to a better facility.
The next day, my stepmother calls me, and tells me that he would be needing open heart surgery.
I used to scoff when I heard the line "time stood still" when something major happened. But I won't anymore, because it DID feel like time had stopped. I had to sit down and catch my breath, because my father was the last man on Earth I'd expected to be going through this. He is the most active hardass on the planet, and for this to bring him down was a huge eye opener for everyone.
I'd seen enough medical shows and dramas (Grey's Anatomy addict alert) to know that open heart surgery was not ideal. I've seen videos of the procedure. Knowing my dad was about to go through all of that scared the hell out of me. He's only in his mid forties, he's too young to need all that done!
I also knew that the situation was serious, if he needed that surgery. It meant my father's life was in danger. I ultimately found out the details, but that's for another post.
I wanted to cry, but I did not. I didn't cry because my little sister was doing enough of that for the both of us, and I knew that my dad wouldn't want us to be scared, as he was scared enough for everyone.
I don't pray often but I spent the rest of the day begging God not to take my dad, because I knew my family would not be able to handle another loss, especially the man who was our rock.
He did make it through the surgery, and is recovering at home. The recovery will take up to a year, as they had to break open his breastbone and a few ribs to get to the heart.
This was THE scariest time of my life so far. And it's made me change a lot of habits, because I do not want to be going through the same thing 20 years from now.
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