2014 — A horrible success

Although 2014 was a horrible year for my family, especially my father, I am still grateful for the year. Because at the end, my Dad is still alive and with me.

I started off 2014 with a lot of hopes and dreams in my brain. I planned to work on advancing my career, getting myself back in shape, finally finishing and publishing the book I’d been writing for two years. I mapped out my goals, set out basic plans, joined a gym.

Then in February, my Dad had a heart attack. Although it turned out to be a minor one, it still was a heart attack in an older man with congenital heart problems.

Over the next month, Dad went through a variety of tests to find the reason for the attack. He then had to undergo not one, but two, heart procedures to correct this new problem. It was a physical strain on a man who prides himself on being strong and doing everything for himself. But he worked hard at recuperating, and by mid-year, he was almost back to where he was before the ‘incident.’

He even came to stay with me over the July 4th weekend. July 4th in Philadelphia is a lot of fun. There are parades everywhere – from the major ones in Center City to our township parade with fire engines and antique cars and marching bands from local schools. We ate ice cream under the stars, watched fireworks from my balcony, and did the usual tour of all the golf shops in three counties. The following weekend, I went home and spent more time with him. I am so glad I did.

Because the next weekend, in late July, he had a stroke. A massive, bilateral stroke that left him comatose. He was transferred to a critical care unit at a major hospital, where we learned the type of stroke he’d suffered was rare, and that the prognosis – was not good. Essentially, we were told he probably would never wake up, would not make it out of the hospital alive.

They had obviously never met my Dad. He surprised everyone by waking up from the coma after a few days, and again began the long, difficult road to recovery. He learned how to breathe without a ventilator, and like an infant, started figuring out how to move his arms and hands and legs. The hardest part was relearning how to speak – the stroke left his larynx paralyzed, and you could see the frustration in his eyes when he tried to answer simple questions. But after two months, he had made enough progress to be transferred to a rehabilitation unit.

And ran into another problem, his third of the year – the nurses discovered a pre-cancerous condition. Back to the hospital he went for another round of surgery, and a reset of his recovery from the stroke.

But regardless of all these illnesses, my Dad is still here, still fighting, still determined to recover. Although he requires care and is in a nursing home, in just the three months from the last round of surgery, he’s now able to feed himself, stand and walk a bit, talk to everyone about everything and is incredibly happy Notre Dame won its bowl game.

He’s even able to come home for short periods of time – he spent part of Christmas with us, as well as the bowl game and New Year’s Eve.

Knowing my Dad, he’s probably planning on being discharged and back to normal by next Christmas. But I don’t care if he doesn’t make that goal, because my Dad is still here, and more importantly, still my Dad The happiest day of 2014 for me was about three weeks after he woke up from the coma – when I walked into the room, said “Hi Dad” and heard him say “Hi Shel” back to me. He appears to have had suffered little to no mental impairment as a result of the stroke, for which we are all so grateful.

So, despite achieving none of my stated goals for 2014, I count this year as a success. Because we pulled together as a family, and because Dad showed us once again how to be strong and successful and how to never give up.

I just hope 2015 is a quieter, safer year for him.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s