My brother said today, "Well Dad's bypass surgery was one week ago today but it feels like its been five years." To that I said, "Try fifteen."
For those who may be counting, since we bid farewell to my dad at the "kissing corner" last Thursday morning at 6:55 AM, he has had quadruple bypass surgery, three cardiac arrests, a procedure to put in a pacemaker (the "Rolls Royce" of pacemakers evidently), and a stroke. He also has had two ambulance rides. One to UCLA very late Tuesday night, sirens blaring, 50 mph on Wilshire Blvd. And one much calmer one back from UCLA. He also has probably taken 10-15 years of each of our life spans in the process.
Thank God, he seems to be recovering from the stroke very well and the neurologist today said he may have no lasting effects whatsoever.
In the interest of documenting our experience Tuesday night, the night of the stroke, I am writing it here. I also want to sing the praises of the Lord. His hand has been in the little details throughout the whole thing, and His praise is constantly on our lips for my dad's extended life.
So Tuesday evening my mom called from the hospital to say my dad was acting really strange and the nurse thought he was maybe on a bad drug trip because he had gotten quite a bit of painkillers that day. His heart was also in atrial fibrillation, which is an abnormal rhythm that isn't super dangerous temporarily but can't go on for long. So at shift change, they told my mom to go home and get some rest and said, "We really think he's going to be fine." So Dan and I headed up after shift change to check on him and make sure all was well. When we walked towards his room, there were probably four people gathered at his door- never a good sign. The nurse looked up and said, "Ok, he is having problems moving his left side and Dr. Robertson is on his way to assess him, along with a neurologist." His face was totally drooped on the left side and it was obvious to me he was having a stroke. I called my mom, and tried to keep her calm, since the word stroke hadn't yet been used by the nurse, I didn't use it either. As we were talking, Dr. Robertson (my dad's surgeon) came rushing in, took one look at him, and said, "He's having a stroke! Where's the neurologist? Get me Dr. Starkman at UCLA on the phone!!" Oh, it was so scary. Dan called my mom to tell her to get back to the hospital while I called my brothers. Things after that just kind of exploded. Dr. Robertson was shouting at all sorts of people while my dad's anesthesiologist stood and kept him talking and monitored his condition. Every once in awhile, Dr. Robertson would shout a question atme and I would try to answer. They then rushed him down for a CT scan and Dan and I followed. We sat and waited in the same room we had been in for his surgery, which was so weird. But it was late at night so everything was dark and quiet. Dr. Robertson came and got us and said he was for sure having a stroke but we might be out of the window of opportunity to do anything (there's a drug they give stroke patients that my dad wasn't eligilble for because he just had surgery and would bleed out). On the way back to the ICU we were met by our pastor, which just felt miraculous (he got there SO fast). We got back up to the ICU and Tim and Lilly (my mom and dad's best friends and practically family) arrived. The other pastor from our church also arrived. Dr. Robertson resumed yelling at people on the phone (he may sound crazy but we LOVE this man. he is IN CHARGE, let's just say that). Soon after my mom (with our friends Bill and Karen) and Matthew arrived. Then two of the elders from our church arrived. So literally within like 30 minutes we had almost 15 people in the hall of the ICU praying for my dad. My mom, Matthew, Dan, and I kept talking to my dad. He was coherent but definitely a little out of it. Dr. Robertson called the ambulance service, who said it would be 25 minutes. He yelled at them that he didn't have that much time and promptly called 911. Santa Monica Fire Department arrived and whisked my dad to UCLA. Dr. Starkman at UCLA is the world's leading expert in stroke reversal. They do a procedure where they go up through an artery in the leg all the way to the brain and literally pull the clot out ("high tech crap" in the words of Dr. Robertson). So we all raced to UCLA, praying and praying and praying. They rushed him into a CT scan and contrast dye study of his brain while we sat and waited. We all prayed for a long time together and it was incredible. Jim, one of the elders from the church and an old friend, prayed that God would do "what the doctors can't" and Wes prayed for peace for all of us. And after we prayed, we were all so calm and just talked and waited. After about an hour or so, a guy from the stroke team came and found us and told us that the clot had broken up on its own! Praise the Lord!! The blood was flowing well through his brain already. After seeing how debilitated he was when we got to the hospital earlier that night and hearing Dr. Robertson yell, "We have to get him to UCLA to save his brain!!" this felt so miraculous. So we went in and saw him briefly. He was pretty groggy. we headed home and collapsed into bed, praising God, at 2 AM. By the next morning he was already moving his left arm and leg and his face was so much better!
As of now, he is back at his original hospital, he's been up and moving around, and has been moved to a regular room. God is just so good.
Ways I've seen God's goodness through this:
*that my mom was not there for the first part of my dad having the stroke. the whole event was really scary and I'm glad that Dan and I were there to deal with it
*the way God got all those people there so fast to pray. truly the body of Christ at work!
*the obvious: the clot dissolving on its own
*the peace He so clearly gave us as we waited
*having Dr. Robertson as my dad's surgeon. he's the chief of staff at the hospital and just gets things freaking done!! I love love love that man
*Dr. Robertson was out for ice cream with his daughter when the nurse called so she came along. she was so sweet and encouraging and stood there and prayed for my dad
*Dan's parents were home and rushed right over to sit in our house since the boys were asleep and were fully ready to spend the night and get up with the boys in the morning if we were at UCLA all night
*they were talking about moving my dad to a regular room that night, where he would not have had a nurse by his side. but Judy, Dr. Robertson's nurse manager, went down, saw the room, and said it was too far from the nurse's station for my dad. love love love her as well.
Those are just a few!! And a random one, we are thankful my dad's was transferred back to St. John's and away from UCLA before the Michael Jackson pandemonium began. We probably would have been stuck there forever!! A random fact: the hospital my dad is at now is where Farrah Fawcett died and UCLA is where Michael Jackson was taken. Ah, the joys of living in L.A.!!
Another side note: my mom spoke with Dr. Robertson's daughter at some point and she told my mom Dr. Robertson has a painting in his office of a surgeon operating on a patient's heart and Jesus standing behind the surgeon guiding his hands. That is very cool on its own. What made it cooler, though, was that when my mom was praying for my dad's surgery with her prayer group she got a vision of Dr. Robertson in the operating room, with Jesus with him guiding his hand. Anyway, just a cool story.
One more fun thought: Although Dr. Robertson yelling about needing to save my dad's brain was a bit terrifying in the moment, he also said/yelled, "This man is a 73 year old physicist and he is BRILLIANT. We HAVE to save his brain!" Like I said, we love this doctor. He really is 100% invested in his patients and sees them as individual people.
Thanks for reading this long, pictureless post.
And thank YOU Jesus for keeping my dad alive! :)
Twins turned 12!!
5 years ago
