Way past time...

Ok... I know... I know... my blog is sorely neglected.

With going back to work full-time and losing our computer in the last lightning storm... I just haven't had a chance to update everyone on our lives.

Big things have happened and are still happening. That said... the devil is fighting harder than ever on destroying our family so if you could keep us in your prayers... just know that I'm doing the same for all of you.

Ok... blessings, blessings, blessings! As some of you know by now and by the previous post, you will know about Dad's bypass surgery. What I didn't take the time to tell you is how it all unfolded and how God had His hand in it the whole time.

Dad had serious health issues and has been in and out of the hospital since Oct '08. When he went into the hospital in Oct '08, he was there for just shy of a month. His whole body was infected and they discovered he had gall stones. They determined at that time that he was not strong enough for surgery. Both his heart and lungs were very weak and the doctors were refusing to even put him under to do the necessary surgery. He was medicated to clear the infection, sent home and told to lose weight and try to strengthen his lungs... exercise and eat properly etc. If he had another attack, he was to go to the hospital immediately and they would assesss from there. Long story short... he lost 48 lbs and was in and out of the hospital every few weeks for a bit until they finally decided they could wait no longer and had to operate. He came through that surgery extremely well and amazed the medical staff with how quickly he recovered. They also reassured him after his exit from ICU that his heart was fine and his lungs were recovering nicely.

Now... fast forward a bit. Dad was having "attacks" and pains in his right chest area. They reassured him that it was normal and they would go away. They didn't. They ran some more tests and discovered that he had a stray gall stone that had to come out. They sent him to the University Hospital in Edm and performed what should have been a 2 hour outpatient surgery. Dad was in the hospital for over 2 weeks. He was crashing and there were things happening with him that they could not explain. They tested and tested and finally discovered a huge blockage in his heart. The blockage was at the bottom ventricle where it splits into 3. This was in August '09. The doctors again felt that he was not strong enough for being put under and wanted him to strengthen his heart and lungs before they performed such a major surgery. They scheduled him to be re-examined in November giving him time to lose more weight and put him on meds to try to lessen the blockage.

When he got out of the hospital he went home and went back to work. He was feeling great and his doctor told him that the meds were working and the blockage had possibly cleared. We rejoiced but were still cautious until we were shown proof in the upcoming Angioplasty scheduled for November. He came to our house for a bit a few weeks later. We took him to church and the Spirit was MOVING!!! Dad sat between Neil and I and worshipped like I'd never seen before. He danced, he sang, he waved his arms... he remained on his feet through the whole worship service. I kept watching him and praying, "Please God... don't let him have a heart attack!" Shortly thereafter, he went home and his health started deteriorating. He woke up at 2 a.m. on the morning of their wedding anniversary. He was having trouble breathing. He took his puffers and it helped a tiny bit and he was able to fall back asleep. He woke again at 4 a.m. and this time he was worse. He could barely breathe and he could feel it getting worse every second that passed. He called to my Mom to help him set up his nebulizer but was unable to even put the mask on his face. My brother called 911 while Mom and Colin kept watch over him. The paramedics took their time getting out of the house but they had given him oxygen in the meantime and was able to breathe. They admitted him into the hospital once again and decided that even though it wasn't a heart attack, the risk was too high and date for heart surgery would be moved up if he was inpatient... so once again, he lay in a hospital bed. After a week or so, they came to him with the news that they were flying him to Edm for his surgery. Family was notified... surgery was scheduled for next morning at 6 a.m. We all travelled to Edm and waited... and waited. Surgery was to take 4 to 4 1/2 hours so giving an hour or so for prep etc, we calculated that he would be done by 11 - 11:30. Twelve o'clock rolled around... 12:30... 1 o'clock. The waiting room on the recovery floor is filled with family all doing the same thing... praying and waiting. Finally... at about 1:20, the doctor came out to update us. My brother and I were at the bus depot picking up Mom so we weren't there but we got the text message within minutes that said "EVERYTHING WENT FINE!!!" THANK YOU JESUS!!!

Now the real worry and prayer begins.

We were allowed to see him... a couple of us at a time... for a few minutes at a time. If anyone ever has to go through this, I sympathize with you from this moment on. I walked into his room and found my Dad lying in that bed with tubes coming from every part of his body... heavily sedated... blankets wrapped around him including across his forehead and bandages across his chest and up his leg. Machines beeped and pumped air and cycled medication and did things that amazed me. How can they keep all of this straight? Bags and bags of medication hung on poles attached to lines that fed into his body and into each other. I tried to count how many lines were running into him and I lost count after 23 because I couldn't find where one started and another one ended.

The nurses reassured us that this was normal and they were expecting to having his breathing tubes out by supper time and by midnight, he'd be sitting on the edge of his bed eating Jello. Didn't happen!

All of that day and night and into the next morning, the machines kept him breathing and sedated. The nurse woke him up a couple times late Friday afternoon but he didn't stay awake very long. We would talk to him and sometimes he'd open his eyes or nod but it was millimeters at a time. He started tearing at his tubes and gown... we'd quickly try to keep him calm and find out what was wrong. He couldn't talk and he eventually tried to write but he'd get one letter on the paper and either fall back asleep or his hand would shake so bad he couldn't hold the pen any longer. He was frustrated with not being able to communicate and in turn, it was upsetting us too.

Dad was staying awake for what seemed like a few seconds at a time by this time. He was still on life support and was still filled with tubes and machines. His kidneys were starting to fail and they had been trying all evening to put him on dialysis but either the machine or my Dad was not cooperating... not sure which. It was kinda funny because the dialysis machine they were using had a sticker across the top. They had nicknamed the machine "Big Daddy"... how appropriate. Apparently it was named after one of the male nurses that was over 6 feet tall... but it was a sign that OUR Big Daddy was looking after MY Big Daddy.

Late Friday night as we sat in the family quiet room, my sisters and Mom came out of Dad's room. One sister was crying and everyone was visibly upset. My heart stopped. I have to admit, I thought the worst. I could hardly utter the words, "What's wrong, what happened?"

My sister proceeded to tell me... She had been standing by Dad's bedside and he opened his eyes and looked up at her. With all of the tubes etc. still in him he mouthed the words "I want to go home." Kim said she understood him as plain as day even though he'd been trying to talk up to that point and we weren't getting it. She said, "I know Dad... it'll only be a little while longer." He shook his head 'no' and pointed to the ceiling... He wanted to go HOME! My sister said to him, "Oh no Dad! You can't go yet... we don't want you to!" He just smiled up at her and nodded yes. They were too upset to visit much longer so they said goodnight and as they were leaving his room, he blew kisses goodbye with both hands, smiled and waved to them.

Even as I type this, I cry.

We prayed hard that night. It was well after midnight when we left the hospital. We had called everyone we dared wake up at that hour to pray with us. Those that we didn't call, we sent text messages. I twittered as quickly as I could to get as many prayers going as we could. He wasn't recovering as quickly as they'd hoped and now it seemed like he may be giving up. We prayed... and prayed... and trusted God.

The next morning, three of us went in to see him. My sister from BC, Megan and I. His eyes fluttered open for a second to acknowledge that he knew we were there but that was all the response we were getting. All of a sudden, my sister started looking in the bags that held Dad's stuff when they transferred him to ICU. One bag contained his breathing equipment and the other one was in the closet. I asked her what she was looking for and told her that she might find it in his other bag in the closet. She didn't answer me but went over to the other bag and came back to his bedside with his Bible. She opened it and laid her hand on Dad's arm and said, "Dad, I'm just going to read something to you from your Bible." She flipped a few pages and then she began to read Psalms 108:1-6. It goes like this...

1. O God, my heart is fixed; I will sing and give praise, even with my glory.
2. Awake, psaltery and harp: I myself will awake early.
3. I will praise thee, O LORD, among the people: and I will sing praises unto thee among the nations.
4. For thy mercy is great above the heavens: and thy truth reacheth unto the clouds.
5. Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens: and thy glory above all the earth;
6. That thy beloved may be delivered: save with thy right hand, and answer me.

She could hardly get through the reading because we were all crying... but God was speaking directly to us. We knew He was right there with us in that hospital room.

All day Saturday, there was little change in Dad except for late in the afternoon he started asking where Mom was. Mom sat with him most of the evening and hardly left his side. A few men from the surrounding churches came and prayed with him and we just kept doing the same thing we had been doing. Praying, pacing, praying, encouraging each other, praying and visiting with Dad. I knew I had to be back to work on Monday morning and I wanted to be back in time for service in Calgary for Sunday morning. But, I didn't want to leave before I knew Dad was ok.

Still... we prayed.

Sunday morning... Megan and I got up early and went straight to ICU. We were staying in the residence beside the hospital set up for families of patients. We checked out of our room with confidence that things were going to be different when we got to Dad's room. We buzzed in and went around the corner to find him still sedated and breathing tubes in... machines buzzing and beeping... "Big Daddy" still filtering blood. I asked his nurse how he was doing and she said sarcastically, "The same!". I prayed that his next nurse would be a little more compassionate. But... he was still doing the same. No tubes removed... no sitting up eating Jello... no talking... very little change. The nurse let me know that he had been very nauseated all morning so she had put him in a sitting position. How horrible for him to be sick with all those tubes down his throat. I just held his hand and prayed... I felt SO helpless. On a high note though, the dialysis seemed to be working. He had very little swelling in his legs after the surgery but by the time they had hooked him up, fluid was just starting to build. We could see the difference it was making. We were just praying that it was actually kick-starting his kidneys which was the immediate need. We visited with him for awhile. He tried to communicate and was semi-awake for part of the time. Any time we'd ask him a question, he'd nod a little or open his eyes to try to see us if we were talking to each other. Mom came in at about 10 a.m. and he tried to communicate a little more. We were teasing him about his skinny feet. For the first time ever in my memory, my Dad didn't have puffy, swollen feet. Mom asked him what kind of shoes they were going to get to fit those new feet. I joked and said "dancing shoes". He smiled around his breathing tubes. The respiratory therapist was in and I asked her when she thought he'd be off the tubes. She didn't have much hope that it would be that day at all and possibly Monday morning. She did adjust him back to 'assisted' breathing and let him know that the machine was only going to help as much as he needed.... again, he nodded just a little.

The grumpy nurse came in shortly after and told us that we would have to leave for about an hour because she had work to do. We left and went across the street to have breakfast at Timmy's. My brother found us there and we updated him on Dad's minute progress or lack thereof. We sat for about an hour and a half and then my brother and I decided that we would go back in to see him one more time and then head out on the highway as we were both working Monday. We all went back to the hospital together and we buzzed in for our visit. Mom, Megan and my sister waited in the family room. They allowed us in and as we rounded the corner to his room, my brother was in front of me. He went to Dad's immediate side of the bed and I started around to the other side when my brother said, "How are you feeling today Dad?" Not looking up and it not registering in my mind as I had just left him helpless about an hour and a half ago, I was shocked to hear this whisper, "Oh, not too bad." Then it struck me... I looked at my Dad sitting up in bed, glasses on and teeth in... and BREATHING TUBES OUT!!!!! Thank You Jesus!! I said to him, "What happened? I just left here less than two hours ago and they didn't think you'd be on your own until tomorrow!" He just smiled... he knew that it was only God.


We visited with him for a bit and then I had to go out and let Mom and my sister know the good news. As far as they knew at that time, he was still in the same position as before breakfast. I let them visit for a bit and then went back in to say goodbye. He was sitting on the side of his bed, leaning on his table with a smile on his face. He told me that up until that morning when I had went in to visit, he didn't know where he was, why he was there and couldn't even remember WHO he was! At one point, he'd thought that he was driving his dump truck but as hard as he tried, he could not remember what his name was. He knew there were doctors and nurses around him but couldn't figure out why he was there. He was so relieved to know what was going on.

Now... fast forward just over a month. Dad is steadily getting better physically. He notices physical improvement every day. I talked to him three nights ago and he explained that the struggle now is depression. Apparently, it's normal for people who have gone through such extensive heart surgery. So... please keep him in your prayers. He is frustrated with the anger he feels but it not sure how to deal with it. Mom is struggling to keep up with it all. The doctor is suggesting that they put him on anti-depressants but Dad's not sure if he wants to go that way. I assured him that he'd be ok either way and that we'd pray. He doesn't like to be alone and panics very easily.

But... while I'm talking to him the other night, he explained to me what a miracle all of this is. This goes right along with Pastor King's message last night. Dad's doctor sits and listens to him complain about this or that and not once tried to stop him. When Dad apologized for complaining, his doctor assured him that it was ok and he would listen to him complain any day because just to have him sitting in front of him is a miracle.

The miracle? The blocked artery in Dad's heart is the one that carries 2/3 of the blood to the heart. The blockage? 93%!!!!! It truly is a miracle that my Dad is alive. God has a purpose for his life and I'm so glad he's living it!!!

Thank you all again for your prayers. Keep praying for Mom & Dad for what they're going through right now and for getting them moved to Calgary. The devil is fighting them all the way but I know that if we perservere, we'll have the VICTORY!!!

God Bless! Love you all!