Waiting

I watched Grey's Anatomy tonight. I have also enjoyed watching it. After my Daddy passed away, I had a hard time watching it. I think my emotions were too raw at the time. But lately it really hasn't been a big deal. So, I'm watching it and it shows a girl who is waiting for her brother during a risky surgery and it brought back so many memories.

I can remember waiting for his first surgery. The one that started the whole long process. It was July 23rd. I can remember sitting with Daddy prior to the surgery in the waiting room. We were all taking and trying to make things light. We were worried and he admitted that he was nervous. The surgery was several hours long and it felt like an eternity. I will never forget the feelings of relief seeing his surgeon walk out into the waiting room. We thought everything was okay. We thought we had gotten past the hurdle.

Fast forward about two weeks. He got really ill and was readmitted to ICU. After several days he had another surgery. I honestly can't even remember how many surgeries he had between August 11th and October 18th. I think around a dozen. Anyway, I can remember the feeling of dread and nervousness before each surgery. Sitting in the waiting room waiting for the hourly phone calls to update us on his progress. Watching his surgeon walk into the waiting room and trying to read the expression on his face...was it a relieved look or a look of dismay? What news did he bring us? There were several surgeries that did not go well and we waited for the next critical 24 hours. I would go home and sit up all night glued to my phone. I was the first point of contact since I lived closest to the hospital.

So many emotions go on while you are waiting for a loved one to come out surgery. Will you see them again? Will this be the last surgery? Will the post operative complications be severe?

I remember the last night of waiting like it was yesterday. We knew his hours were numbered. We knew no more extreme measures would be taken to save his life. Daddy was ready. He was tired. There were several times we almost came to it but then some nurse would pump him full of some medication that would prolong his life a few more hours. As I stood there, holding my father's hand watching him drift in and out of consciousness, I wondered if this was the moment? Would this be his last breath? Is he suffering? Does he know that I'm here? Does he feel alone? Is he comfortable? Does he feel peaceful? We were literally waiting for him to die. Those were the most agonizing hours of waiting I've ever lived through.