My entire month of June 2010 was either spent in the hospital or recovering at my parents' home. This is not at all what I had envisioned my summer with Blake to be like, but for some unknown reason, God is allowing these roadblocks to enter into my life. This has left me, at times, very frustrated and emotional. For you to understand my whole thought process, I should probably start from the beginning. For those of you on our prayer email list, most of this will be a repeat of what you've already heard. But for the others, here is the story:
The date is around May 21 or 22. My Dad is feeling some chest pressure, thinks it might be heartburn, and takes some antacid. Over the weekend, the pain becomes incredibly worse, and my Mom takes him into the Holland Hospital ER. Turns out, my Dad just had a mild heart attack. The third one in his life.
After consulting with the Drs, the best course of treatment would be to perform a triple-bypass surgery at Spectrum Hospital in Grand Rapids. Surgery is planned for Tuesday, May 25. This was a very scary time for our family, as we knew that Dad's heart was functioning at 25%. We prayed our hearts out, and asked all of our friends to pray with us, that the Drs would be able to perform the required surgery and have the ability to restart his heart.
Our prayers had been answered as Dad's surgery was a complete success. We were able to visit him for only a few minutes after surgery. It was hard to see him on life support, and I don't think any of us, especially my Mom, were able to sleep that night.
The next day, Mom and I went to go visit him. They were able to take him off the ventilator that following morning, so that was awesome. Mom and I took turns holding his hand. I went out into the hall to make a few phone calls to let the rest of our close friends and family members know that Dad was on his road to recovery.
On the way back to Dad's room, Mom was standing in the hallway. I asked her what was going on, and she said that Dad's chest was hurting and he felt nauseated, so the nurses are working with him to get him comfortable again. Once they did that, we could go back into his room.
When I started holding Dad's hand, I saw some yuck stuff coming out of the tube that was through his nose to his stomach. I asked the nurse what was going on, and she said that because he felt nauseated, they turned up his suction to his stomach fluids so that he wouldn't vomit. I think everyone who knows me knows that I have a huge fear of people vomiting, and that must've shook me up a bit. I started feeling "funny", and excused myself from his room as I desperately needed some fresh air. I walked down the hall, became very disoriented, then turned back around to see if I could recognize the nurses' station outside my Dad's room. I went to it, told the nurse I think I'm going to faint, and down I went like a wet noodle. Thank goodness one of the nurses saw it coming and caught me.
We thought I was having a Hypoglycemic reaction, so I was given orange juice to drink. Both of my arms were tingly, so I was put into a room next to my Dad to wait for the juice to work through my system. After about an hour or so, my right arm stopped tingling, but now both my left arm and my left leg were tingly. This has the nurses a little bit concerned, and they felt that I should be seen downstairs in the Spectrum ER.
On the way down there on a gurney, I had two more "fainting" episodes. The reason I put fainting in quotations is because I'm not completely out. I can hear everything that is going on around me. I can even answer questions, although from what I understand, my words were coming out very slurred or mumbled. My body is so completely weak that I can't hold my head, my eyelids, my arms, or anything up. It seems like the only thing to "wake me" out of it is if I drink some cold water.
(Because this is a rather lengthy story, I am going to tell it in parts. I will continue with this story hopefully tomorrow, if I feel up to it).
No comments:
Post a Comment