So Scott and I enjoyed a great time on Valentines day in Kansas City with our friends and cell group. After this time I can't tell you what happened with any of our friends because we were consumed with my Father's health.
Feb 27th my I received a call around 12:30 stating my father was on his way to St. Joe Hospital. On arrival, I found my father in deep desperation and thankfulness for my being there. He said he fell and as I looked at his head there was dry blood and I was a little confused. He then mentioned he fell on Tuesday and it was Friday. I started getting very concerned. He told me the whole story and was sent to ICU for the next four days. For three days we talked about his hopes and dreams of living a better life. He seemed to be very off balanace and dizzy. He talked about being fuzzy and this really concerned me. The doctors and nurses recommended skilled nursing and rehab treatment. So, I explained to dad what needed to be done and he agreed to go to the rehab center. He spent 13 days in the rehab center and things seemed to be improving little by little. He was getting frustrated and wanted out of the rehab center but he still had a few more days left. I had already planned to go with Scott's family to Colorado on a ski trip and my brother, sister and aunt's told me I should still go. So we went to Keystone. I don't remember the first day of skiing much because I got a phone call at 5:30 in the morning from a nurse stating my father had fallen again. He hit his head and had no idea who he was or what day it was at the time. They said if it doesn't improve they are going to take him to St. Francis. While on the slopes I get called and they did transfer him and were planning on doing surgery. With me being the "power of attorney" I was called around 11:30 and asked what I wanted to do. They wanted to put a tube in his brain to drain the blood out which was causing some swelling. They mentioned ventilator and machines. I got nervous. I knew dad had told me he didn't want to be put on a machine and if he goes let him go. I was conflicted but knew the right thing to do was try the surgery. I hung up the phone and called my brother. No answer! Aughaughuah. Within seconds he called back. I was in shock and told Troy what happened all the while sitting on a lift with Scott and his parents. I was crying and helpless. Troy encouraged me, I did the right thing. He explained the tubes and machine were just there to help him through the surgery and they were aware of his wishes not to be on life support. I took a deep breath and tried to keep my composure. One hour later, the surgery was completed and they felt like everything went smoothly. I was thankful and relieved but we still had to wait and see what he was like when he woke up. I asked our Pastor and great friend Roger London to please visit him since I was in Colorado. My wonderful friend Wendy went up to see him. Both friends giving great reports back to me he was very clear in his thinking. We finished our weekend with Scott's parents and drove home on Tuesday. By Wednesday Dad was clear he was going home. I was not convinced even though he was talking without repeating and seemed to be very aware of who had just seen him. I had talked with the nurses and they said he would probably go back to the Rehab Center. But within hours dad was calling me to tell me he was going to be released today and to stop talking with nurses. He didn't want me involved, he did not want to go back to the rehab center and that was that! I felt guilt, anger, doubt, fear, hopelessness and rage. How could he treat me like this when I have been caring for him for the past two weeks non-stop? PTL one of my friends was with me and she made a few calls. She set me up with a strong woman of faith to meet that day. We talked and I cried. She encouraged me to keep honoring my father and showing him who Jesus wants us to be for him. I remembered it wasn't about me and my hurt it was about showing dad love. Even when he is not welcoming my thoughts or my actions. I will show him love. A few minutes later I called laura and found out she wasn't going to take him home because she had already taken her pills. I was asked to go pick him up. So everything in my human flesh wanted to say no and try to get him into a facility. I knew my father's wishes and I had to honor them. I picked him up and he was so thankful and humbled. I think it was at that time he knew I was there for him. He knew I wasn't trying to hurt him or go against his will. But he still wasn't convinced that I hadn't caused his long delay in getting home. After several days of phone calls trying to understand what I had done in those 2 weeks. I was blamed for messing up their insurance, losing hearing aides, writing notes that did not exist, causing issues with him not being able to cash a check because I had his license. All of this caused me to go deeper into myself with frustration of helping him at all. Then Scott and I got a glimpse of hope. We had something happen which caused all of this to seem worth it. After a brief conversation about this hope, my father called me one afternoon and apologized. He had come to the realization if he hadn't have been in the rehab center he might not have been alive today. He thanked me for taking care of him and for all I had done. He finally found his hearing aid, his insurance stuff was figured out and I gave him back his license. I feel like I was hit by a tornado but the difference is God put all the pieces back together as if it had never even hit. The only reminder is the healing in my heart for my father. I am thankful for my husband throughout this whole deal. He conversed, cried, held me tight, became angry when I was angry, he became my protector, he honored me in helping my father and he loved me. Where did it go? The time? Somewhere in History when my oh so distant family became so close and dear to me. My sister, brother and aunts showed me compassion and love. I want to thank them for being there for me through this time.
