I Do Hope For The Best

I got a text at work Friday night from the woman that my Dad lives with. It said, “they’re moving him to I.C.U.” I called her immediately to ask what was wrong, I didn’t even know he was in the hospital. Laverne told me that ever since he had the pacemaker put in, he’d had a problem with falling down. I knew about an incident, a week or two earlier, in which he had fallen while walking a friend’s dog and required a trip to the emergency room where he received a number of stitches on his face and had a number of scratches to go along with it. I’d spoken to him a couple times since then and he seemed fine. We were able to joke about how unattractive I was sure he looked.

So, again, why was he being moved into the I.C.U. let alone be in the hospital? Well, it seems that when Laverne brought him into the hospital for his normal visit with the Dr. she mentioned the falling down. The Dr’s. felt this was something they should check out and admitted him into the emergency room and ran some tests. It was during these tests that they discovered two things. First: the pacemaker was set too high and they needed to adjust it. No big deal, I’m sure this kind of thing happens more than we all would think. Secondly, and more importantly, they found what Laverne called, a slow leak in his heart that would require surgery.

Dad’s been going to the V.A. Dr’s. pretty much since he retired and was at the local hospital in Chicago. It turns out that they either don’t do this type of surgery there or none at all so they will have to move him to Milwaukee on Monday for the operation to take place there. I’m pretty sure this is not some earthshaking operation and it probably gets done on quite a regular basis. I know that with all the advances in medicine he’ll be in much better hands than he would if this was 20 years earlier. That still doesn’t make one take pause and wonder if this is possibly the last time I’ll ever hear from him. I know, that sounds so morbid and pessimistic but it’s not meant to be. Dad’s going to be 78 in July and has never been in any kind of shape physically. He’s never been one to exercise or eat properly and at his age, let’s just say, things started to catch up on him years ago.

I’ve written a number of things about my Father and his relationship with his children so I won’t rehash any of that now. What I will say is that I hope he comes through this in good shape and lives many, many more years. I do wish I was more invested in this emotionally than I seem to be. It just seems like I should be all about this right now and I’m having a hard time getting all worked up about it. I feel bad about that but I can only feel what I feel.