I Can Now Smell The Roses!
It wasn't until a few days ago that I was finally able to smell the Westerland roses that we grow near our kitchen entry. During the first few weeks of June, the apricot colored floribunda Westerland roses blossom profusely scenting the hot late spring air with its strong spicy fragrant.
Years ago, we spotted these climbers in a special gardening catalogue and decided that we must have them. My husband planted the rose bush by the large windows of our weekend house in northeastern Pennsylvania. We sold the house right before our first child was born but knew that whenever and wherever we should settle our roots next, we would acquire these magnificent roses again. The Westerland roses repeat bloom throughout the season, but nothing compares to its very first awakening from a brutal cold winter.
As of today, my father would have been hospitalized for two weeks. Fortunately, he is now taken off the critical list after undergoing his quadruple bypass last Tuesday. His recovery, up to date, has been remarkable. He woke up very early in the ICU and soon his tubes and IV were removed; there were no signs of stroke suffered, and my father was quickly returned to his regular room. The healing process, as expected, has been painful but he makes steady progress day by day.
The hours leading to my father being carried away to the surgery room was hell. Although his heart was healthy, he is 77 years old and with that the risks were so high; having high blood sugar and cholesterol didn't help either. Days before the scheduled surgery, throngs of people began to appear. The elder son from Philadelphia and his wife-their three kids; another son from southern New Jersey and his family, tons of daughters and their perspective husbands and boyfriends - I never knew who I was going to be running into.
The day my father's cardio-echogram showed blockages in his arteries and valve, we knew he should go for the surgery. Then there was no question that we had to find the very best cardiothoracic surgeon available in New York City (or the world)
My father's pending surgery was major news; fear, anxiety and chaos soon followed.
Everyone involved thought they knew what was best;everyone wanted to show my father that they cared- I just prayed to God everyday that he would make it through the surgery so that our relationship will have a chance to head in a better direction.
I now forget when I wrote the above and saved it as a draft; there hasn't been a free moment since Memorial Day weekend when my father was first hospitalized. As of today (June 25th) my father has been back home about nine days, my kids already out of school and started summer day camps, my back is killing me, my house a pigsty due to neglect over the past month, and take-out has been more the norm around here - I am ready for my father to be healthier and really back on his feet.
The recovery after bypass surgery though, is long and painful. Even more so for my father who is used to being actively working and barking orders...not take them from the slew of people hanging around him these days and his cardiac nurse whom we have hired to care for him everyday from seven to seven. On top of that, he is now in need of twice daily insulin shots, constant monitoring of his blood sugar level, blood pressure, and the amount of oxygen that is being taken into his lungs. My sister M, had totally turned our father's bedroom at home into a very comfortable hospital room away from hospital complete with wall charts, hi-tech medical gadgets, and tons of prunes (after all, he is 77!)
Throughout all of this, we have come out much stronger ourselves. Our sickness (estrangement from our father) have slowly evaporated and gone out the window. For the first time in our lives, our father was the weak one, the one who needed our help to see things through; our last four weeks have been very cathartic..emotionally purifying...FREED from whatever clouds that have hung over us in the past three decades.
I don't know how much my father will change after this experience (I joke and say to people that, after all, he didn't have a brain transplant)..but physically and spiritually, his heart had been touched and I can only hope that he will use this second chance that he has been given to take better care of himself and learn to enjoy this life that he has worked so hard all of these years for.
It is all up to my father now; how he will recover, what type of change he will make to his lifestyle, the path that he will choose for the rest of his life that has now been slightly extended...Come what may.. I am so happy that my prayers have been answered - I got my father back!
Years ago, we spotted these climbers in a special gardening catalogue and decided that we must have them. My husband planted the rose bush by the large windows of our weekend house in northeastern Pennsylvania. We sold the house right before our first child was born but knew that whenever and wherever we should settle our roots next, we would acquire these magnificent roses again. The Westerland roses repeat bloom throughout the season, but nothing compares to its very first awakening from a brutal cold winter.
As of today, my father would have been hospitalized for two weeks. Fortunately, he is now taken off the critical list after undergoing his quadruple bypass last Tuesday. His recovery, up to date, has been remarkable. He woke up very early in the ICU and soon his tubes and IV were removed; there were no signs of stroke suffered, and my father was quickly returned to his regular room. The healing process, as expected, has been painful but he makes steady progress day by day.
The hours leading to my father being carried away to the surgery room was hell. Although his heart was healthy, he is 77 years old and with that the risks were so high; having high blood sugar and cholesterol didn't help either. Days before the scheduled surgery, throngs of people began to appear. The elder son from Philadelphia and his wife-their three kids; another son from southern New Jersey and his family, tons of daughters and their perspective husbands and boyfriends - I never knew who I was going to be running into.
The day my father's cardio-echogram showed blockages in his arteries and valve, we knew he should go for the surgery. Then there was no question that we had to find the very best cardiothoracic surgeon available in New York City (or the world)
My father's pending surgery was major news; fear, anxiety and chaos soon followed.
Everyone involved thought they knew what was best;everyone wanted to show my father that they cared- I just prayed to God everyday that he would make it through the surgery so that our relationship will have a chance to head in a better direction.
I now forget when I wrote the above and saved it as a draft; there hasn't been a free moment since Memorial Day weekend when my father was first hospitalized. As of today (June 25th) my father has been back home about nine days, my kids already out of school and started summer day camps, my back is killing me, my house a pigsty due to neglect over the past month, and take-out has been more the norm around here - I am ready for my father to be healthier and really back on his feet.
The recovery after bypass surgery though, is long and painful. Even more so for my father who is used to being actively working and barking orders...not take them from the slew of people hanging around him these days and his cardiac nurse whom we have hired to care for him everyday from seven to seven. On top of that, he is now in need of twice daily insulin shots, constant monitoring of his blood sugar level, blood pressure, and the amount of oxygen that is being taken into his lungs. My sister M, had totally turned our father's bedroom at home into a very comfortable hospital room away from hospital complete with wall charts, hi-tech medical gadgets, and tons of prunes (after all, he is 77!)
Throughout all of this, we have come out much stronger ourselves. Our sickness (estrangement from our father) have slowly evaporated and gone out the window. For the first time in our lives, our father was the weak one, the one who needed our help to see things through; our last four weeks have been very cathartic..emotionally purifying...FREED from whatever clouds that have hung over us in the past three decades.
I don't know how much my father will change after this experience (I joke and say to people that, after all, he didn't have a brain transplant)..but physically and spiritually, his heart had been touched and I can only hope that he will use this second chance that he has been given to take better care of himself and learn to enjoy this life that he has worked so hard all of these years for.
It is all up to my father now; how he will recover, what type of change he will make to his lifestyle, the path that he will choose for the rest of his life that has now been slightly extended...Come what may.. I am so happy that my prayers have been answered - I got my father back!
posted by cream cheese dreams at 11:11 AM
2 Comments:
Teresa - what a touching story. I'm so glad to hear your father came out OK. I've been keeping him and your entire family in my prayers. I wish you and your siblings lots of strength for this cleansing process. Thank goodness you all got to be together.
Thank you Jennifer; all the the prayers and well-wishes were heard...Life is so unpredictable; I always try to make the best of any given situation and never, ever take anything for granted.
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