The Heart of my Loving Father

This Father's Day, I wanted to tell the story about why I have the strongest Dad on the planet. My dad was born with a hole in his heart. When he was 6 months old, doctors did surgery to fix it, but he was then left with a leaky valve. One of his valves didn't shut all the way, and blood would leak back into one of his ventricles. The heart would then have to pump harder to get that blood through. Well....I'm not much of a medical person, but I do know that the heart can only get so big before its elasticity won't work anymore. Eventually, one side of his heart was going to get too big.

We knew that he was going to have to have surgery eventually. The doctor told him to exercise and eat healthy so that he could have a healthier heart, which would prolong his surgery. Why did we want to prolong his surgery?? There's a type of heart surgery now where doctors can access the heart through the femoral artery. They don't have to cut you open at all. Unfortunately, there wasn't a stent large enough to fit my dad. So....we were hoping that if we could wait long enough, by the time he needed surgery, the right technology would make it to the United States.

Dad started to exercise much more, and actually lost quite a few inches! He ate better [kind of...sometimes you just can't help but have a big bowl of ice cream], and crossed his fingers that he could keep pushing surgery back.

In the Spring of last year, we learned that his heart had gotten worse, and the doctor didn't want to wait any longer. He was told that surgery was going to have to happen in July, and they were going to have to cut him open. You can imagine how NOT excited we all were. We all talked about the surgery often, but nobody wanted to talk about what could happen.

The day before his surgery, he went to work early to get everything ready for when he'd be gone. He was a nursing director, and figured that he could just work from home while he recovered. His boss came in and told him that they had already found a replacement for him, and that he was being let go. The night before he left for the hospital, Dad had Jordon and a couple guys from our ward give him a blessing that everything would run smoothly. We then knew that whatever happened was in God's hands, and we just had to trust that everything would be okay.

Hours before his surgery, we just sat in his room with him and hung out. My dad doesn't really talk about his fears vey much, so I never knew exactly how he felt about everything, but I know that he was nervous. I also know that my mom was terrified. You learn that nothing else really matters when somebody you love so much is about to have his chest cut open and heart stopped.

 

I asked if we could say one more prayer, just to be safe. He asked me to give it, and I can't tell you how hard that was. How do you ask God to let your father live, without actually saying it in front of your family? Even though we were all thinking the same thing, nobody wanted to say it out loud.

The prepping seemed to take FOREVER, and it was a gruesome process. He had to have a shot in his butt. I don't really remember what for, but his nurse was hilarious.

Then, he had to have a little tube put straight into his artery. This gave the staff easy access to his heart for when they needed to give him any medication. My dad is pretty tough, and needles usually don't bother him, but this definitely affected him. He was poked SO MANY times because they could not get their needles positioned right.

Then came his favorite part [literally], the morphine! Dad loves morphine. Once it had kicked in, he said, "I am in SUCH a good mood right now!" He then proceeded to tell my mom that she could take his credit card to the dealership nearby and go buy my little sister an automatic Honda Civic. My little sister was all over that idea!

He was then wheeled off and my mom, sisters and I were left in tears, praying that everything would be okay. We waited for a few long hours for it to be over. They called my mom every once in a while to let her know how things were going. Every time she got a call, we tensed up a little bit. You just have no idea what they are going to say, and you expect the worse but hope for the best.

 

[[By the way...if you're ever at the IHC Hospital in Murray...order their ice cream with a side of hot fudge. If you get the right person, they'll fill a whole extra cup with hot fudge. It's Heaven on Earth, trust me!]]

Fortunately, the surgery went faster than expected, and we waited outside the ICU for them to wake him up. I had been warned about what to expect after somebody has heart surgery. I was told that he would be white and puffy, and really scary looking. Even though he wasn't looking his best when we saw him, I thought he looked better than ever. Why? Because he was alive.

He had a tube down his throat because the medication made it nearly impossible for him to breathe on his own. We had to remind him to take a breath. Because of the tube, he couldn't talk. He would spell words out with his finger. If you know my dad, you KNOW how much he loves to be in control of things. It was painful to watch how frustrated he was that he could not control his breathing or his communication very well. But he was alive.

I suppose I could explain what they did during his surgery. Because his valve was defective, they went in and replaced it with a pig valve. Don't worry, this was a special pig that was raised to be nice and healthy. The new valve should last another 20 years. After which, he'll have to go back and get it replaced again. We are hopeful that the next surgery will be through his femoral artery.

We went to the hospital everyday to visit him. I am amazed at how quickly he recovered. He was so determined to get out of there! He pushed his lungs to get back to their full capacity, and he was actually sent home early because of his health and persistence.

The months after were a struggle, mainly because he had no income. They were forced to sell their house and move in with my grandma. He soon got a job up in Idaho, and lives there now. Since my mom is still living in Utah, Dad comes down to visit [almost] every weekend to see his family. I am grateful for the love he has for us, that he is willing to drive this Hulk of a truck 400 miles [round trip] each week just to spend a couple days with us.

I am so grateful for my dad and all that he has done, and continues to do, for our family. My dad has taught me that I deserve to be respected and to stick up for myself. He has taught me to be well educated and independent. He has taught me to put my trust in my Heavenly Father. I know what a real man is because of my dad. Happy Father's Day, Dad! No matter what your heart is made of, I know it is full of love!