My Dad

Some of you may have known that my Dad's been going through a tough time lately - to say the least. He had a chest x-ray a few weeks ago because of some shortness of breath that the doctors later related to some stomach issues. Anyway, the x-ray showed 2 "lesions" on his lungs - one older and calcified, one newer. He then had a PET scan which shows cancerous spots. The results were positive. He has a history of heart disease and has had heart attacks and stents placed in his heart in the past, and is on several blood thinners to control it. Apparently, you can't do surgery or even a biopsy while on these thinners because of the fact that it takes so long to clot afterwards. He was admitted to the hospital on Thursday, September 11 to clear the blood thinners from his body in a safe environment. It takes 5 days or so, give or take. My mom checked in with him - for moral support. Well, if any of you know my Dad, you know that the hospital is the LAST place that he wanted to be stuck for weeks on end.

He had an endoscopy to try to get a sample of the lesions, but the doctor was unable to visualize them from the scope. He then tried a "CT Scan-guided needle biopsy" in which a needle was inserted through his back to get a sample of the lesions. Well, this worked and a sample was taken, but his lung was also punctured which caused a slow leak. That night he had to have a chest tube inserted when his lung collapsed. The pain medication that they put him on because of the chest tube were really strong and caused a lot of confusion and dementia. Most of the time, he had no idea where he was or why he was there. That was Monday.

On Tuesday the results came back - positive for lung cancer. Wednesday was the surgery day. The doctor reported that the surgery to remove the affected lobes of his lung went smoothly. He removed 1 and 1/3 lobes of his right lung and placed 2 chest tubes, a pain pump, and a line that delivers pain meds directly to the sites in his body where the trauma was - his lung and chest. That's where the fun part started.

He was in surgery for 3 1/2 hours and recovery for another 3. When they moved him to his room we weren't prepared for what we saw. He had tubes coming out everywhere - pressure cuffs on his ankles, EKG leads, IVs, an arterial line, the chest tubes, the pain pump, catheter, the direct med line to his lungs, a pulse oximeter......it was incredible and he wanted it all OUT! He was in extreme pain and the morphine and anesthesia that he was given had hideous side effects. He was confused, belligerent, hallucinating, and trying to pull out every tube in his body. It was awful.

My mom stayed with him all night, as she had the week leading up to the surgery. She didn't sleep at all because every 2 minutes or so he was waking up and saying that he needed to get out of bed. He was getting very physical and was insistent that he was NOT in the hospital and wanted to leave. The doctor refused to increase his meds to knock him out because he had already had so much that he believed that it was causing the confusion. It was the night from hell. NO sleep.

The next day wasn't much better. They removed the catheter and pain pump because of the bad reaction to the morphine drip. I wasn't able to be there because I had already missed 2 days of work and had parent conferences scheduled that I couldn't get out of. My aunt Barbara, mom's sister, came to the hospital and stayed with them all day - she was an angel. The hallucinations and dementia continued all day.

I took yesterday (Friday) off so that I could go sit with him while mom went home to take care of herself for a little while. I've never been so terrified in my life. I was so scared that he would try to get out of bed or pull out a chest tube and wouldn't listen to me. It made me sick to my stomach to even think about. I hate that. Thank GOD, he was having a better day and was slightly more lucid, having moments of clarity through the confusion. He's also a lot nicer to me than he is to Mom :) I guess that's what happens when you're "the baby!"

Today was even better. He's not been eating much, so every time I go to the hospital I have been bringing lunch or dinner. Tonight he ate the most so far, which was an improvement. He's also on a different pain medication which makes him more aware and awake. He is walking up and down the hall with a little help and is getting a little bit of his sense of humor back. He's still on the chest tubes and the direct line for the pain meds, but everything else is gone.

Mom's still not sleeping very much, but it's better than the first night after the surgery. He still has moments where he thinks he's talking to the dog, dead relatives, and just generally makes no sense. He also still has moments of thinking that he needs to get up and go somewhere - not realizing where he is or that he's just had surgery. He thinks that he's in the wrong bed. I think that he's remembering his pre-surgery room - they moved him after surgery to a wing where they are used to chest tubes. Last night he told my mom that he needed to get him to a hospital and that if he died because she didn't take him, that she was going to hell. Needless to say, she's taken the brunt of it. Her strength throughout this has just been incredible. I could never have done what she's done. Her patience and strength are just indescribable. She's an angel in human form.

They are talking about removing the chest tubes tomorrow. He still has a slow leak, but it's improving. The doctor thinks he'll go home either Monday or Wednesday. We can't wait. At this point, I think I OWN the parking deck. I know the best ways to get from Tucker to Piedmont Hospital and back by heart and could probably do it with my eyes closed. I've seen things that I will never forget, but wish I could and that will haunt me for the rest of my life. But most of all, it's really taught me an important lesson about what "for better or for worse" can mean and has shown me what true dedication looks like.