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yaksha42I'm back in Seattle. I flew in Saturday morning because of complications with my dad's health.
My dad recently spent 2 weeks in Phoenix. While here, he bicycled 11 miles to and from the Mariners Spring Training stadium several times, walked several miles a day, and in general was in good health and spirits. Like usual, he called his Washingtonian friends, bragging how he was sitting by the pool, reading the newspaper, and it being 85 degrees.
He left Tuesday, about a week and a half ago. Apparently after he got back to Washington he just started to feel like crap. He had appointments at the hospital the next week so he decided to just tough it out until then. I called him last Saturday when I heard he wasn't feeling well. Apparently he had slept for 21 hours after leaving my sister's house from babysitting.
On Tuesday he had his first appointment, and that's when they realized he had another abscess in his head, similar to what happened to him on Christmas Day several years ago. They believed it wouldn't be as bad this time because they had caught it early. He was taken to another hospital for the surgery.
The abscess turned out to be bigger than they thought. They had to stick a tube down his throat to keep him breathing for the surgery, once the surgery was done they realized they couldn't take the tube out, because a lot of the nasty gunk stuff from the abscess had gone into his throat and they were afraid that removing the tube would cause that stuff to go into his lungs. Because he has a tube down his throat he has to be kept sedated, his gag reflex wouldn't like the tube.
The only option provided was to do a tracheoctomy, this would allow him to breath on his own, and they would be able to remove the tube and the gunk from his throat and take him off of sedatives.
I made the decision to fly down on Friday, after hearing about his surgery and the possible need for a tracheoctomy. I really can't do any good here, but I know I have to be here. All of his kids were in a meeting concerning his health and it was agreed that they would do the trache on Monday. Most everyone left today to go home, since some of them have been here since Tuesday.
I just hate seeing my dad like this, with tubes going into him, and I know that he hates this too. He has made it clear that he doesn't want to be kept alive by life support. But if we can get the trache in him there's a chance he'll make a recovery. We know he doesn't want to live a life not worth living, and we're all willing to make that choice should it come. Even after the trache is in there's still a long recovery process. After several surgeries and being kept under sedation for almost a week it takes a while for the body to recover.
I'll probably be flying back to Phoenix on Tuesday.
The hardest part was being in the room with my dad, along with my Grandma, while a nurse had to cut off the sedatives to make sure he was still responsive. I saw my dad's eye open (his other is badly swollen) and I squeezed his hand, I told him I know he hurts, and that I know what his wishes are. But we want to try and make him better first. I told him we wouldn't disrespect his wishes. They put him back under and I saw his eye close, and a tear come down the side of his face.
My dad recently spent 2 weeks in Phoenix. While here, he bicycled 11 miles to and from the Mariners Spring Training stadium several times, walked several miles a day, and in general was in good health and spirits. Like usual, he called his Washingtonian friends, bragging how he was sitting by the pool, reading the newspaper, and it being 85 degrees.
He left Tuesday, about a week and a half ago. Apparently after he got back to Washington he just started to feel like crap. He had appointments at the hospital the next week so he decided to just tough it out until then. I called him last Saturday when I heard he wasn't feeling well. Apparently he had slept for 21 hours after leaving my sister's house from babysitting.
On Tuesday he had his first appointment, and that's when they realized he had another abscess in his head, similar to what happened to him on Christmas Day several years ago. They believed it wouldn't be as bad this time because they had caught it early. He was taken to another hospital for the surgery.
The abscess turned out to be bigger than they thought. They had to stick a tube down his throat to keep him breathing for the surgery, once the surgery was done they realized they couldn't take the tube out, because a lot of the nasty gunk stuff from the abscess had gone into his throat and they were afraid that removing the tube would cause that stuff to go into his lungs. Because he has a tube down his throat he has to be kept sedated, his gag reflex wouldn't like the tube.
The only option provided was to do a tracheoctomy, this would allow him to breath on his own, and they would be able to remove the tube and the gunk from his throat and take him off of sedatives.
I made the decision to fly down on Friday, after hearing about his surgery and the possible need for a tracheoctomy. I really can't do any good here, but I know I have to be here. All of his kids were in a meeting concerning his health and it was agreed that they would do the trache on Monday. Most everyone left today to go home, since some of them have been here since Tuesday.
I just hate seeing my dad like this, with tubes going into him, and I know that he hates this too. He has made it clear that he doesn't want to be kept alive by life support. But if we can get the trache in him there's a chance he'll make a recovery. We know he doesn't want to live a life not worth living, and we're all willing to make that choice should it come. Even after the trache is in there's still a long recovery process. After several surgeries and being kept under sedation for almost a week it takes a while for the body to recover.
I'll probably be flying back to Phoenix on Tuesday.
The hardest part was being in the room with my dad, along with my Grandma, while a nurse had to cut off the sedatives to make sure he was still responsive. I saw my dad's eye open (his other is badly swollen) and I squeezed his hand, I told him I know he hurts, and that I know what his wishes are. But we want to try and make him better first. I told him we wouldn't disrespect his wishes. They put him back under and I saw his eye close, and a tear come down the side of his face.
