Pumped Up

Operation Heart Fixed. If I wasn't so tired, I'd be dancing. Dad went into surgery at 8 a.m. and after almost five tedious hours we got the news...it went "beautifully". Mom and I got to the hospital at the crack of dawn with a promising clear sky. Soon Jon showed up and we all hung out in the ICU, holding Dad's hands and juicing him up with encouraging words. He was deeply sedated and won't remember but we had to for our own sakes. He looked better. They'd been administering diuretics to dry him out so his face and hands looked like him, not so puffy. He was ready to go. We went out while they did last minute prep and we talked with Dr. Korver, his surgeon. He sounded more positive than before. Though he was still deeply serious, the dire note in his voice was absent. We immediately felt enheartened. Soon we were alerted that Dad was about to be moved across the hall to surgery. We waited as the team came pushing Dad's bed along with every machine he was hooked up to en mass. As they approached us they stopped so we could touch his hands once more and tell him we love him. Then he was on his way and our wait began. We hung out mostly in the sunny garden on Memorial's grounds. It was invitingly serene with a quiet fountain, big trees and lots of flowers. We talked, joked, read poetry and bit our nails. Then people began to show up. Sisters, brothers, friends, family. Mom's sisters Laurie and Phyllis, brother-in- law Rod, good friends Jon and Laurie Drew and then two of Dad's brothers all the way from Auburn, Hal and Mike with Hal's wife Bonnie and Dad's step dad Darrell. That meant a lot and really drove home once more how serious all this is. I got very emotional hugging my Uncle Hal. He's so like Dad. I felt how hungry I am to see him standing again. As noon approached, we all began to migrate back to the small crowded waiting room. 12 o' clock came and went. Then 12:30. We were getting really anxious. At quarter to Mom cries "He's coming out!" and the whole big group of us gathered around the ICU door as they came slowly through. Dr. Korver's face spoke the good news before he did. It went beautifully. As well as it could. The bacterial growth was bad and the valve destoyed but he was confident they got it all. His heart is pumping strong now. We cried and cheered. A huge collective sigh. Amazingly, we were all, every one of us, able to go in to see him within 10 minutes. Briefly and all together was the best way they said. We stood around his bed, saying things in low voices and the nurse, Lynn, gave us a tutorial about every tube and what it was for, in case any of us was freaked out. Then we were kindly kicked out. The group broke up as some of us went in search of food and respite from all the stress. I'm home now, limp and happy and so grateful for loving people, competent people, compassionate people. Now we are on the road to getting him home.

Interior of the Heart

This painting has been tucked behind the office door for months but I spied it yesterday and rescued it. Now it's dusted off and hanging in the kitchen and giving me a lot of solace. I am aware that I have a lot of heart images and they've taken on a new and poignant meaning. We all hit a low point on Wednesday night when everything seemed so dire and Dad's survival so precarious. I had a hard time sleeping. I felt like I had taken a blow to the chest and I could hardly breath. Emotional pain. News of everyone's good wishes gave a sense of expanding support and really sustained us. Thank you, everybody. My little altar comforted me. Seeing the flame burning out in the dark garden like a small star was infinitely hopeful but I was scared about the next day. But yesterday was "good". Mom came by in the morning and we hung out in the garden together looking at Dad's picture. We took a walk and then headed to the hospital. We were greeted in the ICU by his new nurse, Chris. She was incredible! She was completely upbeat, smiling and talking to Dad. She'd given him a nice shave so he looked better. He was still hooked up to everything but now he had a little pump in his heart to help compensate for his failed valve and he looked pinker. She gave us a little lotion and encouraged us to rub his hands and feet which felt so good to do. Just human. I said we needed some good news. She said, but this is good news. He's completely stabilized. She said she's been a cardiac nurse in the ICU for like 28 years and he looked very good to her. She asked us all about him and when she heard he likes to cook she put on the cooking channel and turned the volume up low. These small acts had a tremendous effect on Mom and me. We both felt so much lighter. It was like this woman had taken a huge stone off my chest. She also assured us about his surgeon Dr. Korver. The best, she said.We spoke with the surgeon's nurse about what to expect with the surgery on Saturday. Apparently Dad's surgeon believes that patients heal better at home so he aims to get them there as soon as is practical. We liked hearing that! He will, of course have a slower recovery just because he's been so ill but he will be so motivated to get the hell out of there. We also heard his white cell count is lower though there's still no definite news about his bacteria count which is the critical aspect of all this. We want his system clear of that bacteria. So, we all rode this positive wave into the night. One more day and one more night. Then surgery on Saturday starting around 8 and ending around noon. Then we're on the road to recovery. Hang in there, Dad.
UPDATE: When we arrived at the hospital this morning we discovered that Dad had had a rough morning with a sudden rise in temperature and a drop in some other vitals. I was so thankful to see that Chris was his nurse again but she'd gotten a bit of a scare. Soon after we arrived he started doing better. We stayed right with him, holding his hands and talking to him, for some hours. We met his surgeon, Dr. Korver. He stressed again that Dad's condition is very serious. Our spirits slumped some after that but we pushed on. The good news today was that the blood culture results from yesterday came back clean. Clean. We won't know the blood culture results for today until tomorrow. I feel strangely optimistic despite everything. He's got a top notch surgical team there at Memorial and the love around him right now is the miracle that will buoy him through this.

Heart's Ease

This afternoon I'm putting all my energy into healing my dad. He's been ailing for awhile now, a flu that seemed to settle in his lungs. He went into the hospital yesterday morning with a fever, shortness of breath and extreme fatigue. They gave him oxygen, a drip for rehydration and strong antibiotics. By afternoon he was on life support in the ICU. Now we know he has an infected heart valve (maybe even from recent dental work!!) and will probably need heart surgery. He's made of tough stuff. He can get through this, but it's been a hard row and the work's not done. We are all praying and saturating him with healing thoughts. I put a picture of him in the tangled green tomato bed out back with a pot of heart's ease beside him. A sun drenched, growing place. I tagged the biggest most beautiful heirloom tomato for him, imagining his heart healed and strong. I want him home and well . Thanks everybody and anybody for any and all good vibes. Picture him feeling good!

Heart of Roses

This is in front of a little flower shop in the Marais District of Paris. The display was so cheerful looking in the bitter February light. I thought it was perfect for today. Just finished posting and tagging my Paris pix on Flickr (I went with my Mom in 2004 to celebrate my 40th birthday).





Today it's been raining valentine's all day. Paper lace, glitter and pinks. We are happily sniffing peachy roses and stinky candles and nibbling on chocolates. I hope you are too.

Happy Valentine's!