Sunday, September 13, 2009

My Heart is with His Heart . . .

I've talked a LOT about my parents on this blog. I've talked about their weight and their health. I've talked about how much I love them and how grateful I am for the life they gave me and the way they raised me and the way they love and support me at all times. And I've talked about how grateful I am that I've had gastric bypass surgery that I might not have the struggles in my 60s that my parents are having now (we share a gene pool but we don't have to share some of the painful little rocks on the bottom of that pool).

The point? My father called with some bad news yesterday evening. He had a stress test on Wednesday and the results were positive. VERY positive.

I'll show you how naive my parents are to nutrition, health and their own bodies here when I tell you that my father was ECSTATIC to get a positive result to his stress test until his doctor asked about scheduling a follow up with a cardiologist. I don't want to come across as mocking my father (I would NEVER do that (smile)) but I think it is a good example of how my parents are eternal glass-half-full people who have maybe not taken some of their health woes as seriously as we might like them to in the last decade or so. Who have maybe just assumed it was all going to be okay. Who've maybe thought none of their aches or pains or woes were real.

Regardless - it is all very, very real to my father right now. It is very real for all of us.

My beloved father, my mother at his side, will go and be more thoroughly examined by a specialist on Wednesday. Modern medicine will go to work with hopes of getting him back on the right path to the next 40 years of his life.

He knows he has two real options . . .

"Best" case scenario, he'll have a stint put in his heart through a minimally invasive procedure.

"Worst" case scenario, he'll spend the bulk of a morning (if not the entire day) laying on a surgery table while a team performs open heart surgery.

There is no other real scenario. Not just exercise. Not just cut back on the fatty foods. Not just take this pill. Nope. He's in a bit of a crisis and this must be remedied immediately and with force.

I don't mean to sound crass about it. I guess I'm in shock and I'm just trying to boil it down to the basics and remove the emotion and subtleties because if I do that I don't have to think about my father being in this equation and my father's health being in such jeopardy.

If I just keep it all at arm's length I don't have to think about how scared he is. How scared my mother is. How scared my brothers (and the women we love) are. I don't have to think about how sick his heart is. I don't have to think about how my heart is breaking just thinking about it.

I sit here in Kansas. Far, far away. Unable to help in any real way (not that I could help with this anyway (I got a First Aid merit badge but that is where my medical prowess ends (come see me with a first degree burn though . . . I've got you)))!

Happy thoughts for Wednesday. Happy thoughts for my father. Happy thoughts for the next 40 years of his life!

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