life pt. 2

I need to preface this post before continuing with the previous one. A lot has happened in the weeks since Feb 12, and so I thought that I would break it up a bit, not only to make it easier to read, but I also wanted to make sure that I didn’t miss a thing in the process of writing what would end up being a monstrous post. Updates to this story will follow over the next few days. As I write this, I am sitting on the ferry.

After my mom revealed that the issue was Dad’s heart, I got quite a bit more concerned. They had even stopped the ambulance on the way to Nanaimo and swapped Dad into an advanced life support ambulance, they were so concerned. I called Liz with an update, and then tried to raise Matthew again. Still nothing from him on his phone, text messages, or through Blackberry Messenger. Mom needed a lot of assistance – Dad’s incident occurred in the middle of dinner, and as a result, they had been drinking. That’s why Mom had arrived in a taxi cab. Once she made the announcement about Dad’s heart, she told me to go home and work on my schoolwork. “Your father would understand.” Well, for heaven’s sake, I was not going to abandon my mother at the hospital in the middle of the night with no car while my Dad was having a “cardiac incident” (I hate those words). I spent the next few hours waiting, working in a half-assed manner on the discussion questions I was supposed to be doing for a presentation two days later.

Around midnight, I made the command decision to remain. I emailed all of my professors for class the next day, saying that I wouldn’t be there. Cancelled work too. I don't think I have ever emailed that much on a Blackberry. Finally, I got through to Matthew. He was extremely concerned, which is odd for him. Of course, there was nothing he could do to help. I promised to keep everyone up to date.

I got in to see Dad once. He was barely awake. He was wrapped up so tight in the blankets that he could hardly move. He was very pale... I spoke to him for a minute...outlined that I was taking care of Mom, that we had arranged a local hotel for her for the night, and how it was no problem for me be there. He seemed very assured that I was around. After our minute of conversation, I could tell he was getting a bit weak, so I wished him a good night, repeated my promise to take care of Mom, and returned to the waiting room. There were several things that struck me in my brief visit to his bed, how pale he was chief among them. What scared me the most was Dad's assurances that he was ok: he couldn't see the monitors, the crash cart parked at the foot of his bed, and the external defibrilator, oddly labelled "Judy Sparky Sparks" parked up near his head. Clearly, there was cause for concern.

Around 2am, I made a run to Tim Horton's - I was starving. Brought my mother a tea, and just as we sat down in the waiting room, we finally got an update from the doctor. Dad's heart was stable, but they didn't know what had happened. They were keeping him for a couple of days. We had struck up a conversation with the only other occupant of the waiting room, who was by herself. I gave her my untouched coffee - she had expressed an interest in finding the Timmie's nearby, and as soon as the doctor said Dad was out of immediate danger, my adrenaline crashed - I had to get Mom to the hotel. It was an odd mixture of relief and exhaustion.

We rolled up to the Ramada here at 3am. I took the time to get Mom settled in, and then headed for home. I emailed Liz and Chris, and sent a text to Matthew. And then I crashed right asleep.

more to follow

life

These past few weeks have been quite full, for lack of a better word. I had planned to post more during the Olympics, but was unable due to the time constraints - the majority of the time I was working until midnight or later, and couldn't muster the energy on return. In short, the Olympics were amazing. While the job was unglamorous, being in that city for the duration was amazing. The energy, the camaraderie, the craziness... it was all good. Being over there also gave me a chance to see Lindsay more than once, which was grand. It was also great staying with Liz and Chris for so long. We used to live together a few years ago, and it was good to hit that vibe again. I'd missed it.

Speaking of Liz, she has launched a blog for her writing. She is wrapping up her Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing at UBC in a matter of weeks, and has started an internet presence. It's never too late. So please, go and check out her writing - it is far more insightful and funny than mine. Click here to be taken there.

So life. That is what has taken me back away from updating my blog. So as I sit here, listening to The New Pornographers with the sun setting outside my office window, I will endeavour to catch you up.

On March 10, my parents travelled to Parksville to celebrate their month-a-versary. They were married on November 10, 1976, and mark the tenth day of each month some way, even if it is just with a coffee or a walk. However, March 10 was their 400th month-a-versary, so they decided an overnight trip to Parksville was in order. They had called me earlier that afternoon to chat, and, being in the midst of papers, I had to hedge my bets and say maybe. We set a date to call at 9.30pm - I could have a chat with them before bed.

9:35pm rolls around, and my phone rings. It's my mother, and I prepare to be all conversation with her. I have my cup of tea, and my feet up in my cozy slippers. We do the polite "How are you?" and my mother replies "Oh, we're ok, but..."

"Your father has had an incident at dinner, and is on his way to Nanaimo hospital in an ambulance."

My heart immediately leapt into my throat. It lasted only a second - I immediately decided that he had an allergic reaction, which has happened before. My mother asked if I can go and meet him at the emergency room. Of course, I agreed. However, I was working against the clock. Having just taken my amitriptyline, my focus and awareness was about to be severely dulled. So I hop into better clothes, and anticipating a long wait in the ER, pack up a couple of textbooks, and head for the hospital. I call my sister as I pack up, and tell her not to worry, and I will update them. I can't raise Matthew.

It is only as I drive to the hospital that I realize I only know vaguely where it is. I drive up and down the street in the rain and darkness, and can't find the turn. I finally ask a pedestrian on the other side of the street, but they know just as much as I do. I finally find the turn (which is only indicated for east-bound traffic, not west as I was travelling), and get to the hospital. I can't find the ER. I go around the block and find it. Found the ER. Now I have to pay for parking. I was getting a bit worked up by the delay of it all.

I checked in the triage nurse, and I have beat my father there. The ambulance rolls up, and my father is brought in on his stretcher. His eyes are closed, but he is yawning. I relaxed - a yawning man is not a dying man. I called my mom and updated her that he seemed fine. The nurses told me I could go in and see him in a few minutes. In the intervening time, my mom rolls up in a taxi, so I go out to meet her. It is only after I get her inside and settled into the waiting area that my mom tells me that it was his heart. They had been eating dinner when my dad said "I need an ambulance." When the ambulance picked him up, his heart was beating at 32 beats per minute... not enough.

more to come