The Story

I am not sure how to start this post.  Really I wish I didn't have to write it but I am hoping that it will be cathartic and will help in the healing process.

As you probably know I lost my dad about a week ago.  It was a total surprise and we had no idea it was coming.  I haven't told anyone the story or what happened because to be honest it is painful to tell and I don't really want to do it over and over so I figured that I could tell it here once and then anyone who wanted to know could read it.

It all started about  a month ago when my family and my parents went on the trip we take every three years to Disneyland.  My parents drove and we flew, so they left on Thursday the 13th and arrived on the 14th. They got the hotel rooms and ate at Knottsberry farm for dinner where my dad finally got the boysenberry pie he has been craving for so long.  We got there on Sunday the 15th.  We met up and  started to prepare for our week of Disney fun.  Monday the 16th was a holiday so we decided it wouldn't be a good idea to go to Disneyland on a holiday so we went to the less popular Knottsberry Farm.  We geared up for the first day of our vacation.  The first thing that happened as we walked in, of course, was that a photographer wanted to take our picture.  I asked her if she wouldn't mind taking one with my camera too.  My dad came up and asked if I would give him the camera and we argued a little bit about me just wanting a picture really fast and then I would give it too him.  I didn't realize at the time that one of his favorite things was to turn the camera on the photographer and I had offended him by not letting him have the camera.  So the last picture I have of my dad is him super pissed off at me.  I spoke to him about it later and we worked it out but to say the least it didn't start the day off very well.  My mom and dad were irritated and my mom started to feel sick midway through the day so they obviously didn't have a great time.   That night we went and got some dinner and then went back to the hotel exhausted and ready for sleep.  That night my mom came down with bronchitis.  The next day we woke up early and went next door to get my parents and my dad told us that my mom was too sick and they were staying home.  We went to Disneyland and tried to have a good time but I was worried the whole time.  Next day same thing, but they had seen a Dr and my mom was given a prescription and was starting to feel a little better.  My dad told me they would probably come with us the next day and then instead of going to Lego land they would stay and go to Disneyland Friday and Saturday.   So we woke up the next morning and my dad had come down with bronchitis.  So we went to our last day in Disneyland without them.  The next day he was worse.  He had come down with some sort of stomach bug that caused him to throw up and have horrible diarrhea.  We decided that we would still go ahead and go to Lego-land (totally not worth it.)  The next day my parents were supposed to check out and go home.  My dad was still too sick to go anywhere.  He was having similar symptoms as his first heart attach so he asked me to take him to a hospital.  After driving around for an hour we finally found one and he was seen by the Dr. and told he was extremely dehydrated and had a stomach bug, but his heart looked fine.  They told him to not eat anything solid and drink lots of gator-aide.  He was feeling better so they decided to head out. I asked them if they wanted me to drive them home and he said that he thought he would be fine.  My mom isn't able to drive so my dad was going to have to drive the whole time.  They made it as far as Las Vegas that night.  I spoke to my mom and she said they were fine and heading to home the next morning.  We flew out the next day and I wasn't able to get my mom on the phone but I spoke to my sister who told me she had spoken to them and they had made it as far as Filmore because my dad wasn't feeling well.   The next morning I got a phone call from my brother who said that he had gotten a phone call at about 2 am saying that my dad had probably had a heart attack and had been taken by ambulance to the hospital.  My mom had stayed in Filmore by her self and since she couldn't drive someone needed to drive down and get her and the car.  So my brother and I left at about 9 am and got to my mom at around 11.  We got her some food and then drove her to the hospital to see my dad.  When we got there he looked fine.  I could tell he was still not feeling well though.  His stomach was still upset.  They took him in that day for an echo.  It showed he had severe blockages in at least 3 and probably 4 arteries and they told us he needed to have bypass surgery.  They scheduled the surgery for Wed.  We called my sister Kaci and told her what was going on.  My dad said it would be nice if she could come out.  We don't know why, maybe he had some sort of premonition or something, but regardless Kaci got on a plane the next day.  We visited my dad after we picked up Kaci from the airport and laughed and watched my nephew throw all his round shaped food all over the place.  We made plans to spend the night at Kara's and meet at the hospital at 6 am before they took my dad back and then stay and wait for him to get out of surgery.   We got there right at 6 and talked with my dad for a bit and had a family prayer.  It was really nice.  Then they came in to get my dad, we weren't able to touch him because he was told to keep himself as sterile as possible so we told him we loved him and I told him to be good and they wheeled him back making jokes all the way.   About 2 or 3 hours in the Dr. came in and told us that the surgery hadn't started off well.  As soon as they started the anesthesia he essentially died on the table.  They got him all hooked up to the bypass machine which was breathing and  beating his heart for him.  They were going to finish the surgery and we were told to pray and hope for the best.  After another 5 hours or so we were told that they had finished surgery and when they were taking him to his room and  he coded again.  They did CPR and revived him again and started surgery again.  They decided that the problem was his valve that had been bad from the time he was little tiny.   They decided to replace the valve and fixed a couple of other things but they told us they weren't going to be able to close his chest because it would be too much pressure for his heart to handle.   But the first obstacle was going to be getting him off the bypass machine.  They weren't sure he was going to be able to make it.   We were moved to a separate room which we later learned was the "your loved one is going to dye room".  We waited for any news for the next 5 or 6 hours.  We had friends and family come and sit with us.  The nurses and Dr. Hacking (whom we started to call Dr. Bad news) tried to keep us informed as to what was going on. They told us that his heart was sicker then originally thought.  Somewhere in the last 15 years he had had a heart attach that had damaged the bottom half of his heart and it wasn't beating like it was supposed to.  They were shocked that he had driven to California and back.  They were shocked that he was walking around.   At about 10 pm they came in and told us that he was off the bypass machine and was being moved to his room.  At about 10:30 we learned that he had crashed again.  at 11:45 we were told that we could go and see him.  They told us that they didn't think he would live through the night so we were told to basically say our goodbyes.  They took us back and I have to say he looked really really bad.  My sister didn't want to see him like that.  She didn't want that to be the last image she had of him.  I knew I had to see him.  I couldn't leave with out seeing him one more time.  At about 12:30 we left the hospital sure that we were going to get a call in the middle of the night saying that he was gone.  We all slept with my mom that night.  No one really wanted to be alone.  When we woke up there had been no call.  We got ready and headed up to the hospital to check on my dad.  My brother had gone before we did and when we were on our way we got a text from Evan saying that my dad had just squeezed his hand.  We were ecstatic!  We kept up our prayers and my dad was given several blessings.  The nurses and Dr.'s were "cautiously" optimistic.  Things were the same for the next week.  We visited every day.  My mom visited 2 times every day.  He opened his eyes twice and tried to talk once.  It was so sweet to see him stare into my moms eyes.  You could tell how much he loved her buy the way he looked at her.  It was the neatest thing I think I have ever seen.   On Tuesday we were called to the hospital because he was now well enough to close his chest.  Which hopefully meant he was on his way to recovery.  The surgery went really well.  He started to wake up again and he looked really good.  On Wednesday when we visited I noticed he was starting to look yellow.  He had started to develop some Jaundice.  But the nurses weren't too worried.  On Thursday they told us that he had developed an infection and they were going to replace all his tubes and hopefully find the cause.  That night they told us that he had develop sepsis and they were worried but not too bad and just take it one step at a time.  On Friday morning I got a call from Kaci telling me that she and my mom were headed up to visit and she would call and give me and update.  She called about an hour later saying that they were a little worried about his heart it wasn't beating as well as it was supposed to so they were going to put the balloon back in to help it.  She asked if I was going to come up.  I was hesitant because I had sent Samuel to school and I wasn't sure what I was going to do with him.  I then got a call from Kara asking me if I was planning on going I told her my issues and she told me she was leaving immediately and I don't know why but that lit a fire in me and I made some calls and got Sam taken care of.  I do have to say here that when ever I would pray and ask my heavenly father to heal my dad I got a calm and peaceful feeling, and I on purpose did not say that I was ok with him not making it.  That morning when I said my prayer I didn't get this feeling, and so I said to my father in heaven that I would be ok if it was time for my dad to go home.  I quickly drove to meet Kara at my moms house and while on the way I was struck like something hit me in the chest by a very bad feeling and I screamed out "no, please no!"  And I started to sob.  I got to Kara who asked me if I too had that feeling and I said yes and we held each others hands as we raced to the hospital.  At the intersection of 700 E and 4500 so.  Kaci called to tell me that he was gone.  I cannot tell you how difficult it is to drive and sob at the same time but somehow I managed.  We made it to the hospital and joined our family members in my dads room where they were just taking out all the tubes in his mouth and nose.  They gave us time alone to say good bye.  I leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and held his hand.  I held my mom and cried with her.  My brother and sisters and I held each other and cried for at least 2 hours.  My mom after a while decided that she was ready to go.  So we left.  My brother and Uncle (my dad's only brother) stayed a while longer and were there when they took all the tubes out.  They said he looked so much better.  I did get to see him when we went to the mortuary to dress him for his funeral.  He did look so much better.  I am so glad that I did that.  We spent about a week planning the funeral.  It was a beautiful funeral.  It helped me to heal a little bit.  I still have a giant whole in my life now that will never be filled but it helped.   It hit me pretty hard when I was reading the information for Owen's baptism next month.  It says that Owen needs to choose 2 witnesses for his baptism.  Those have always been the grandpas.  I don't know what to tell him now.  I have to say how impressed I have been with my mom.  She has been so strong.  She has her bad days but she has had good days too which if it were me I don't know if I could have good days.  I miss my dad terribly.  I wish every minute of everyday that I could have him back again.  But the thing that keeps me going is that I know that he is ok.  He is enjoying some well deserved down time talking with my grandparents and his little sister.  I also know that I will get to see him again someday.  This is not the end, I just have to wait a little longer then I used to.  

Daddy, I love you and miss you more then I can say.  I can't wait to see you and hug you again!  Love, S'me