| A day of celebration... for fun, for joy, and for laughter.� January 28, 2001, Superbowl Sunday, the day that begins my dad's story as seen through my eyes.� It is told over a period of about 6 weeks and with every emotion known to mankind! I was in the laundry room doing my every day chores when I seen my husband walking quickly down my drive.� The look on his face.� I just knew something was wrong.� I met him in the hallway and looked to him as he said, "It's your dad!"� My heart went to my throat! I was the last of the kids to get to the hospital.� There, my mom sat along with my two sisters and brother.� All trying to figure out what could have happened.� All I knew, to this point, was that mom had found dad, unconscious, on the living room couch.� The nurse called us back to a private waiting area and asked us to wait there for the doctor.� I think we all knew it was bad when she did that.� After what seemed like hours, the doctor came in to talk to us.� He told us that dad had a massive heart attack and a brain aneurism that broke and was bleeding on the front of his brain.� He had slipped into a coma.� This is where the complications start. They needed to repair and stop the bleed on his brain but before they could do that, they had to stabilize dad's heart.� Which was pretty much up to dad at this point.� They gave him a room and told us it was a waiting game now. For three days we waited and dad laid there with his brain still bleeding.� Nothing anyone could do for him.� Then they discovered that dad didn't have a heart attack.� That the shock from the paddles, in the ambulance, made his enzyme levels go haywire.� Making it look like he took one.� So now they could work on the bleed.� That meant brain surgery.� A 50/50 chance between death and survival.� We took the chance.� He was operated on and came through it great!� All we could still do, though, was wait on what dad's body wanted to do. To this point, nobody left my dad's side.� The world came to a hault for the Holsopple family!� And our bodies were beginning to show it.� We decided to start taking shifts so that someone was there at all times and we weren't wearing ourselves out.� My mother and I alternated nights through the weekdays.� When she would stay the day, I'd stay the night and vice versa.� My sisters and brother took the weekends.� My grandmother, dad's mom, was there every day, all day.� My grandfather, who wasn't handling it very well, would usually leave after dropping her off.� So many prayers.� So many tears.� But we also kept our humor.� I know some of the other families that shared the waiting area with us probably thought, what kind of people are they laughing at a time like this?� But we knew that if dad were sitting there with us, he'd be laughing too.� That's what he'd want us to do. It was going on 2 1/2 weeks now.� Dad was still in a coma.� It was my turn to stay the night.� But on this night, I had to go to another floor so they could clean the waiting area where we slept (at least tried to that is).� Throughout the night, I would come back to the floor to check on him.� About 5 am, I made another trip to his room.� I could hear dad coughing hard and it sounded like his airway needed cleaned.� So before I went into the room, I asked the nurse to check on� him for me.� I always kept my distance when they were doing anything with dad.� But for some reason, I followed her into the room.� After she was done, I walked over to hold his hand and to my surprise, his eyes opened!� He turned his head and looked right at me!� That feeling that rushed through my body is so undescribable!� The cloudy look that covered my dad's eyes for 2 1/2 weeks was gone!� They were so crisp and clear!� I will never, ever forget those eyes!� I squeezed his hand.� Told him that everything was going to be okay.� That someone was here all the time.� I told him he needed to rest and get his strength back and then we would tell him all that had happened.� I told him that I loved him and would be back to check on him soon.� With tears of joy, I ran to the phone and called my mom! The news spread quickly... Dad was awake!!!� Friends and family from all over praising the Lord for this miracle!!!� Dad knew everyone that walked into his room.� He would shake his head yes when asked if he remembered.� It was amazing the way he was bouncing back!� Even the doctors were shocked at his progress.� Every day he did a little more and was even getting out of the bed (with assistance).� But then suddenly, we started noticing a change.� He seemed to be worsening.� What we had witnessed weeks earlier, we were witnessing all over again.� A second aneurism formed and broke on the back of dad's brain.� The part that controlled his entire body.� I was at home when I got the call to get back to the hospital.� Dad was dying. They gave him 0-1% chance of survival this time.� There was nothing left to do.� His life, our lives, all in the hands of God now.� We watched his body die before our eyes.� He lost his fight.� We had to say our goodbyes as the machines kept his body alive for organ donation.� We left the hospital.� For the first time in almost 6 weeks, no one was there beside him.� That was the hardest thing any of us ever had to do. Of all the days and moments I spent with dad while in the hospital, there are two moments that will forever be embedded in my mind.� The first one was the morning he opened his eyes and I was the first to see him awake.� The second one was when he first started to worsen.� The doctor came into the room to check him over and he was asking me questions like, "How much was he doing compared to what he is doing now?� Does he know who you are?"� I turned to dad and said, "Tell the doctor my name, dad."� And with all his strength and energy, he mouthed the name that he had given to his 2nd daughter, third child, some 29 years ago.� The last time I'd ever hear him call me.... Michele! In Loving Memory of my Dad! July 24, 1947 - March 2, 2001 Forever in my heart! |
| The midi you are hearing is "My Heart Will Go On" |
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