Silver Linings

Robert, Pete, Papaw Pete, Papaw, Mr. Pete, Uncle Pete, Papa Pete…I’ve heard him called many different things throughout the years, but I call him Daddy. Last week, you may have read my article, “The Nuts Don’t Crack Themselves,” about my dad’s passion and pride for his work. Oddly enough, I was on a plane to Boston after lunch with my mom and dad when I felt compelled to share the story. After a board meeting, I flew home late Wednesday night. I never would have imagined what would follow the next morning.

My mom called me at 9:15 am to come quick, my dad had fallen in his bathroom. I arrived to find him on the floor and unable to speak. He was taken to the hospital where we learned he had a massive stroke. Three different neurologists told me that my dad would not be able to talk or understand us, the damage was too severe, he was permanently paralyzed on his right side, and he would likely pass within a few days. We honored my dad’s wishes and declined any life-saving measures. We knew he would not want to live that way. He was home within twenty-two hours and admitted to hospice.

The last few days have been a complete blur with little sleep and lots to learn and do. My sisters have been amazing. We split shifts and support the nurse aides who have been helping my dad. He prefers for one of us, his daughters, to help him with most things but not necessarily his personal care.

Since bringing him home, I’ve been looking for silver linings and lessons from this experience and God has certainly provided both.

First, my dad has defied the odds and been able to do more than the doctors believed he could. While in the hospital, I would ask my dad yes or no questions and he would respond appropriately with a nod yes or a shake of the head no. The doctors told me those were just reflexes; My gut told me differently because I know my dad and could see him communicating with his eyes and expressions. Five days out and my dad is saying more words, enough that I can usually make out what he is saying. It’s become a game of charades and my dad has been a trooper. He’s also exercising his right arm, hand, and leg, and has eaten a bite here and there. I learned a valuable lesson. Medical professionals can’t determine with certainty a patient’s outcomes. If the patient, in this case, my dad, is determined, they can do things others deem impossible. Listen to them and trust your gut to do the right thing.

On Sunday, we were without a home health aide for a while. When it came time to do personal care, my sister and I did our best to help him. We laughed to keep from crying and I believe my dad was ready for us to leave him alone. My sister told every home health aide that they would have a special place in heaven, and I agree. Nurses and home health aides are the backbone of the healthcare system, in my opinion. Home Health Aides do the hard work of lifting, bathing, and other personal care. I’ve been in the home care business for twenty-seven years and, while I have always appreciated home health aides, I have never understood the magnitude and importance of their work. I certainly do now. If you know a nurse or home health aide, remind them how important and appreciated they are.

Last, but not least, I have been impressed by the number of friends and family who have come to our rescue texting to check on us, messaging us on Facebook, bringing food, visiting with my mom, and most importantly sharing their love of my dad with him. As a long line of friends have stood by his bedside and expressed how much my dad meant to them, it occurred to me that not many people have this opportunity. Often times it is at a wake that we share memories and laugh about all the times we had with our loved ones who have passed. My dad has been blessed to hear and understand it first-hand. We’ve also had some good laughs. My dad has always been a bit of a jokester. We were lucky enough to see that side of him the other night when he forced my sister to allow him to feed her a popsicle. His grin said it all. One thing we know for certain, we are blessed.

While we don’t know what the future holds, we all plan to spend as much time making my dad comfortable, tending to his needs, and making great memories while we can. After all, it’s the least we can do given all he has done for our family. For now, we will be looking for these small breaks in the clouds for any bit of blue sky.