On Monday evening I missed a call from my mom and shortly after that I received a call from my brother. Just seeing his name on my caller ID so soon after Mom had called sent chills down my spine, and I answered the phone, "What's wrong?" Here is the conversation that we proceeded to have, as well as I can remember it...
C - "Amy, don't freak out. They are taking Dad to the Emergency Room."
A - "Why?"
C - "I don't know."
A - "They don't just take people to the Emergency Room! What happened?!?"
C - "I don't know, Amy."
A - "That doesn't make any sense. What is happening?!?!?"
C - "All I know is that he was at football practice, and they took him to the ER."
A - "Somebody has to know something! What is going on?!?"
C - "They said it might be a heart attack."
A - "Oh God!!!!"
And time stood still for a moment.
The next few minutes were a blur of "What do I do next?" and prayer. I called my mom, and she was driving to the hospital in tears. She didn't know any more than my brother did. So, I called the hospital. When someone answered the phone in Dad's room I didn't take the time to be cordial, I just said, "This is Amy. Tell me what is happening with my dad." It was a kind man named Mark, and he told me all that he knew. Dad had been running - literally - a play at football practice, and he had had some symptoms that made him think that he might have had a heart attack. At the hospital, they had done a blood test and and EKG and were waiting for the results. The first test that came back did not indicate a heart attack, so a stress test was scheduled for the next morning. I calmed down, and continued on with our evening's activities. There was talk that maybe he was just sleep deprived and dehydrated, and I could not imagine that my healthy, almost-60-year-old dad could actually have had a heart attack, so it was easy to get back to the mentality that he was fine. After a while, I got another call. The cardiologist had read the EKG, and he was a bit concerned. The computer-generated reading showed that Dad had had a heart attack at some point, and there was a "blip" on the reading that concerned the doctor. At that point, they decided to do a Heart Cath the next morning.... and at that point, I got more concerned. I could not decide what to do - I wanted to go to my parents, but it was almost 11:00 on a stormy night, and I had kids to think of. Corey was so kind to say, "If you want to go tonight, I'll drive you there." That is all it took. I packed enough to manage an overnight, put all the kids and the dog in the car, and off we went to Waco. We arrived at my parents house after 1:30 in the morning got up to see dad at the hospital the next morning about 5:00.
We visited for a while - Mom, Dad, my brother, Allie, Jack, and me - then Dad rolled away for a his Heart Cath. Still, I was not too nervous. In previous times when things are going terribly wrong in my life, my dad has literally said, "Nothing is going to happen to you. You are a Selke." So, of course, I thought that it would all be alright. He is a Selke!
When the doctor called us into the little room to show us what he saw, it was surreal... kind of interesting, but as the facts of Dad's heart's health sunk in it was terrifying. It turns out that his LAD - an artery that feeds 2/3 of the heart was 60-70% blocked. Because of where the blockage is, a balloon or stint was not possible. He would need a double bypass. Maybe this should not have been shocking to me since Dad's grandfathers had both died of heart attacks at 59 and his dad had had his first heart attack at 61... but it was!
I had heard the word "bypass" before, but I can honesty say that before last Tuesday morning I could not have told you what that entailed. It is funny how something becomes very clear and clearly important to you when it affects you or the ones that you love.
The moments after that were hard. Some of the hardest that I have ever lived. We were all scared. And sad. It was the kind of moment that bonds a family even tighter because of the raw emotion that is exchanged.
It was about 9am, and we were told that we would have to wait for the surgeon to come talk to us and schedule the bypass, and we all thought that we would see him relatively soon. At 8pm, we were still waiting. In the mean time we hung out in Dad's hospital room and chatted with visiting friends. Corey and my sister-in-law, Adrielle, helped immensely that day (and several other times) with the boys. Allie hardly ever left her Poppie's side. Finally, we met the surgeon, and he said that we would plan to do the surgery the next late afternoon/ evening. It concerned me that he would not be "fresh", but otherwise we were all just glad to be moving toward the next thing.
That night after the surgeon left, we were again face-to-face with more emotion than some of us had ever experienced. My two older kids had been with me almost all day and had heard and seen almost all that I had. When it was time to leave Poppie for the night, it was more difficult than I would have ever dreamed it would have been. Many questions and fears were addressed that night, and it was ultimately a sweet time as a family - learning about faith and trust and peace in the midst of the storm.
Shortly after we arrived at my parents' house for the night, my sister Sara, from Oklahoma, joined us. We talked for a long time while Corey washed the one set of clothes that we had brought, so we could wear it the next day. More tears were shed, and some cried themselves to sleep. The thought of life without Poppie was unbearable.
At about 4:30am on "surgery day" (Wednesday) Sara woke me up. Dad had called from the hospital, and they had moved his surgery up to 7:00am. We threw clothes on our unshowered bodies and rushed to the hospital to see him before he was to leave for surgery. Mom, Coby, Sara, Allie, Jack, and I spent time with him before he left at 6:30am, and Emily drove frantically from Dallas. She, of course, thought that she had much more time to get to the hospital before he went to surgery. She arrived just after Dad left, and that was very sad.
The time that followed went pretty quickly for us. We were shown by the chaplain to the ICU waiting room, and when I walked into that room I was heartbroken to see people sleeping on couches. It literally took my breath away. One lady said that she had been sleeping there for 14 days while her husband had been in ICU. We set up "camp", friends came and brought us breakfast, and people started coming to visit. Before long, it was time to go to the consultation room to hear from the surgeon how things had gone. This part of our day - and a few times after that - were very special to me. It was just my mom and we 4 grown kids sharing a big, huge life-moment together. In a family of now 19, it is uncommon that we get time together with just our original family. We shared some great laughs in that room as we waited, but the whole time I was aware of the horrible, life-changing news that some people get when they are in that little room. The doctor came in and told us that everything had gone well, and we were very thankful.
When it was time to see Dad in the ICU, the 4 kids and Mom went to stand still and quietly to observe Dad from a distance. At that point, we could not touch him or talk to him. I was glad to see him, but also so very sad to see him in the state that he was in. He was very still and was on a ventilator among many of other machines. It was scary and emotional, and I don't know what I would have done without my baby sister's hand to hold. We only stayed for a minute before we started the 2-at-a-time rotation. When it was my turn to come back to see him, he was waking up extraordinarily slowly. Just like he was supposed to. During that process, I was so impressed with his nurse and doctor as they walked us - and him, even in his sedated state - through every step. We stayed with him in pairs until 1pm when ICU is closed to visitors, took a lunch break, then came back for visiting hours at 4pm. Allie got to see Poppie at that point, and the time that we spent just sitting in his room while he slept was comforting and special, and I will never forget it.
Throughout that day, we had so many people come by and visit us and pray with us. We had friends bring us food, and we had a gazillion messages on Facebook that we were being remembered in prayer by so many people. I cannot tell you the peace that that brought us. It also brought me a lot of pride in my dad. He has touched so many lives!
The next few days are a blur... We were at the ICU every time that we were allowed. On Wednesday night Corey took the boys home, so they could go to school on Thursday. Allie stayed with me, and I watched her maturity jump as she dealt with days on end in the hospital and loving on her Poppie while he was getting better. On Friday night, she and I came home for Jack's Saturday games and so I could crash-homeschool him. I have not felt as exhausted as I was over the weekend very many times in my life. It is a feeling that only extreme emotion on top of extreme stress on top of extreme exhaustion can bring. On Sunday the kids and I went back to Waco in hopes of helping my parents get settled if they got to come home from the hospital on Monday.
They did, in fact, get to come home on Monday. It was Day 7 in the hospital, and at one point we had been told that Dad might need to stay 10 - 14 days. He is doing well. Things are getting "normal" - for someone that has undergone a double bypass. Lots of things hurt and are sore and are tiring, but he is making great progress, and I am really, really, really proud of him. There is no way that he would be so far along in his recovery if it were not for his will-power and the grace of our God. I am beyond thankful that I am writing this post to tell the details about his recovery and not something horrifically worse. I do not take for granted that we are blessed to have him here with us for many, many more years.
I love you Dad! I think you can tell that I think that you are just about the best guy out there, but just in case... I think that you are just about the BEST guy in the WORLD !
