Tuesday, January 18, 2011

This Day in 2010

I can't help but reflect back to last year at this time...


Here in AZ the weather is amazing this week, which has helped my mood tremendously, but this time of year still haunts me deep inside. I remember every detail of this day last year. I can feel those same feelings. I can remember the conversations with the nursing staff. I can remember what I was thinking as I went in to sit with my Dad bedside every hour, on the hour. I remember holding his hand and praying for the craziness to end, even if it meant losing him.

It was gloomy outside and had been raining for days. It was unusually cold. By now I had been sitting in the corner of the CCU waiting room for the last 20 days, 12 hours at a time. My own life was at a stand still. I missed my kids. I missed my home. But I had to be there. For my Dad. For my Mom.

All day I sat, watching the rain fall down over the city, while my heart was crumbled inside. I didn't have much emotion. Just emptiness.

I couldn't believe after fighting Diabetes and every known complication for 30+ years my Dad was dying because of a hospital error. True, he set into bypass surgery as a very high risk patient. But there were so many things that went wrong. That shouldn't have. Its not the pain of losing my Dad that haunts me to this day. Its the suffering he endured before his death. Because of their mistakes. Its traumatic to watch someone suffer. So, today when I think back to January 2010 I realize it created alot of trust issues for me. Alot of anger towards health care. But, at the same time I still have the highest respect for every Medical Professional that cared for my Dad (and us) during our time in CCU. My goal for tomorrow (the day before my Dads death) is to find the letters of appreciation I wrote to his Nurses after he died. Somehow, back then I just couldn't send them. We had several very special Nurses that provided exceptional care. They listened to US, not a text book. Some went the extra mile to comfort my Dad. A few were painfully honest, even when the doctors were not. I appreciate that the most. So, tomorrow I will find those letters I wrote. I think its about time.


Reyna said...

Gosh...I know the scene so well by living it with my dad and by being the nurse at the bedside for so many like our fathers. I think the lack of candidness is what always displeased me the most in working side-by-side with many surgeons.

(((HUGS))) And...send the letter, it will mean so much to the nurse.

Meri said...

(((HUGS))) Kelly! I know it has a been a long road, and I'm sorry for the feelings your fathers death has left you to sort through. But at the same time, I am so thankful for those angel nurses that treated you and your father like human beings! Find those letters, and if you haven't sent them, I think you should. It will help your heart! Love ya!

Hallie said...

Love you, Kelly. Thinking of you and sending you great big ((hugs)) this week.

Wendy said...

That experience affected my heart...seeing you go through it...the heartache.

I'm proud of you, Kelly.