Monday, December 13, 2010

One Thing After Another

Hi everyone.

Dad had been getting so much better after his bleed and subsequent operation- so much better, in fact, the doctors allowed him day-leave from the hospital on Saturday and Sunday, and were going to look at discharging him Monday (today) or Tuesday (tomorrow).

On Saturday we went to Kings Park in Perth and just had a little walk around (with Dad in a wheelchair, as he was still very weak). It wasn't much but for Mum and I, and I hope for Dad, it was just the most blissful day. On Sunday we picked him up from the hospital about 10.00am and took him home for the day. He walked into the house (for the first time in a week and a half) and checked everything- making sure we'd fed the birds, locked his shed up, etc etc. Then he fell asleep in his favourite arm chair for most of the afternoon, on-and-off. Again, it wasn't much, but it was magical, having him home even temporarily.

About 5.00pm our time we decided we'd better take Dad back to the hospital (we didn't want the nurses to tell us off! Haha). He insisted on walking half the way from where we parked the car to his ward, which was so amazing considering we were told that he'd never be "Dad" again after the bleed last Saturday. We'd just gotten him up to bed and settled, when he started bleeding gushing out blood from his nose and mouth.

This time the nurses were ready for it, in terms of knowing what to do with medicines and stuff- they sedated him immediately and gave him a whopping great dose of morphine so he wouldn't feel anything. It had pretty much rendered him unconcious- he was breathing but not awake or aware. About 5 minutes after he started bleeding, the bleeding stopped as soon as it started. The nurses told us to come in and say our goodbyes, as there was no way he'd survive the second bleed, especially as there was nothing they could do surgically and blood transfusions were pointless. We spent all night with him, holding his hand and telling him how much we love him, how proud we are of him, and how amazing he is. At about 11.00pm, something amazing happened. He started moving, and he opened his eyes. By 5.00am this morning, he was lucid, awake and aware. If I thought last Saturday was a miracle, then this was... something else. I can't describe it.

Dad is now awake, and talking, and giving us lots of cheek. He's holding our hands, telling us that he loves us and reminiscing. It's amazing. He is amazing. He is so very, very amazing. I've said it once, and I'll say it a million times again, but I am so in awe of him, and I am so very, very proud of him.

It's a friggin' rollercoaster ride of emotions, going from thinking you've lost your father, to knowing he's ok, to thinking he's coming home, and then thinking you're going to lose him again, to knowing he's alright again, but I wouldn't change it for anything or anyone at all. I wouldn't trade one second of this for all the peace or happiness or riches in the world. I'm trying to make seconds count as years now.

I'll keep you all up-to-date, as always, with how he's going.

1 comment:

  1. I can second that in saying your dad is one truly amazing human being. Works not the same with good old bazza on the back counter giving us our parts to get through the day. Everyone at the total nissan service crew are missing him greatly, and are wishing youse all the best. WE LOVE YOU BARRY!
    From Mark