Thursday (Day 31)

My mom's sisters answered the call, and surprised her with a visit and some dinner...so we all went out and got her mind off things for a spell.
It was awesome to see her laughing again. Some friends of my Dad also joined us and the little sneaker picked up the tab when none of us were looking! (Thanks from everyone for that, GO)

Everyone at the table was telling stories of my Dad. Things he used to do or say, things he has said recently in recovery, updates, etc. It was a great evening.

He and I watched the Obama speech tonight. He kept saying O-bah-ma....haha. I told him I loved him as I left, and he whispered "I know".

This will be my only post until Monday evening. Have a great weekend everyone!

Wednesday (Day 30)

Yesterday was pretty uneventful. He was a bit of a sour puss to my Mom & I. Brad says he perked up later in the evening. He learned that pressing the red button gets the nurses to come, and his favorite nurse he can call by name. It was one of those evenings where he is pointing at something and trying to tell me something...and I just cannot pick up what it is. It's like playing Charades with no timer....you just keep guessing and guessing. I ask him to be patient, as I am trying to "hear" him. I know I would be going nuts if I were him, trying to express myself.

I am going to Cali this weekend and will have limited posts, FYI. I will likely post Friday, since I am sneaking in there to see him before my flight...but then not again till Monday evening.

Also, some friends and I are planning a Silent Auction to raise funds for my father's care. If you want any information on donating items and/or attending the event, you can email me at petrofied@gmail.com. Several items are available already and more are on the way. The event will likely take place in the Seattle Metro area sometime in October.

Tuesday (Day 29)

Last night was fun. My Mom told me that he played a little "Matchmaker" with one of his nurses, as she reminds all of us of one of Brad's ex-girlfriends. She came into the room, and my Dad pointed at her and said Brad's name. She blushed as she exited the room apparently. He briefly cried at the old memories.

By the time I got there, he was pretty tuckered out. Earlier he had been in a wheelchair and the PT took him into the "gym" that is provided in the facility. When I asked him if he was pumpin some iron, he responded by throwing his hand up to arm wrestle again...what a show off. Haha. His speech is getting better, and when my Mom turned on Oprah...he mustered out "Oprahhh". She went home to take care of Jack, and I stayed for a while. Shortly after she left though, he was out like a light. All in all, a pleasant evening.

Monday (Day 28)

It is one thing to see my Dad in this weakened state, or to watch him struggle over the last several years as the tremors get worse. But, as I found out this weekend, it is entirely something else to helplessly watch my father cry. My Mom had told me about these brief moments of him crying....but up until now, I have been unaware of them. I am pretty sure I have never seen anything more painful, and the mental image remains in my head. I am sure there are several reasons for his tears. Fear, love, embarassment, whatever the reason...it breaks my heart more than anything I have ever experienced. We doubt that it is due to pain, or suffering, as he has been pretty good at telling us when something is bothering him. I believe it is the struggle and possibly a little impatience to get out of that place, and back home. None of us can begin to imagine what a person goes through when in my father's position. I know when I get fatigued at the gym, I can just stop when I want to. Without the ability to speak clearly, he is being pushed and pushed and pushed, and has no way other than those tears to tell us anything.

If we were self made millionaires, we would take him home and hire a private nurse, and let him heal on his time....but we have to push, and I foresee a lot more of these tears in the future. I can tell you that it took every ounce of my strength not to break down and cry with him. But now is not the time for tears.

It has come to my attention that my blogs may be painting a picture to its readers that he is coming back around, and that it is just a matter of time before he is walking on his own two feet and taking on the world. Let me just say that this is my personal observation. I believe this can happen, yes. He has done things for me that, in my mind, show signs of strength and determination. If he wanted to give up, he would not do the little things that he does. I get excited over the little things, but they are just little things. He has a long, hard road ahead, as we got a glimpse of this weekend. I just don't want any friends and family that are reading this to necessarily think that everything is ok based on my views and updates. Unfortunately, I cannot write about everything I observe due to the public nature of this site. This site is FOR my father, it is not my personal journal. I apologize for any confusion.

His insurance is going to end very soon we are being told and he will be unable to stay in the current facility. We will either be required to bring him home and care for him ourselves, or place him in an assisted living type home.

Remember when I said we take the good with the bad? Well....

Unfortunately, my Mom is carrying a lot of the weight of all of this on her shoulders. She is not going to like this....but I am going to have to insist on a ladies night to get her mind off of everything. (I told you I was going to set it up!)
Soooo, sisters, friends.....email me at petrofied@gmail.com if you want to help out with "Operation Make Mom Smile".

Friday (Day 25)

Not much to report today. We had a quiet evening last night. His new thing is the snapping of the fingers. I asked him just to do it, and he did it repeatedly with little to no pause in between snaps.

According to my Mom, he had a busy day, so it is no surprise that he was tired for me. He had quite a few visitors during the afternoon, which may have exhausted him a little. I think the visitors are good, but I do ask that you coordinate with my Mom or one of us prior to popping in, so that we don't overwhelm him. The Speech Therapist made some ground with him, which is nice. Brad tells me he is starting to accomplish two tasks at once, rather than just one thing at a time. His good friend Gary taught him some sign language earlier this week, and he was able to tell me "I love you" in sign last night without me prompting.

Last night was a slow day, like many more to come. We take the good with the bad though, it was actually nice to see him resting for a change. I know he is eager to get out of that bed and get home, and is anxious to "figure out" what is wrong and fix it...but the body heals while it rests too. As much as I wanted to "play", I could see he needed his rest. Hopefully we'll have a big day today. :)

Thursday (Day 24)

Wow...what a day. As I have stated before, it is the littlest of improvements that can make a world of difference. Last night was awesome. I can't honestly remember seeing my Mom laugh that hard.

I walked into his room, and he appeared to be sleeping, but there was something different. He just looked different, better, but different. I asked my Mom how he was doing today, and saw his eyes pop open. I approached the opposite side of the bed that my Mom was on, and he held up his hand for me, and just had a genuinely happy face. There were no available chairs, so I knelt down beside him, and upon my Mom's request, he reached out to touch my nose. She started snappin pictures on her cell phone. I told him, "Hey Dad, Mom is taking pictures of us!". He threw up his hand and gave a wave, then threw up a "peace" symbol. When my Mom and I were done laughing, I looked down and he had a huge smart alec smile on his face. She managed to get this shot...

She then leaned in to kiss him goodbye, and told him she is going home to take care of Jack. He SNAPPED his fingers, and patted the bed as if Jack was in the room. I was blown away. Brad tells me he was snapping his fingers the night before too. We'll have to get Jack back in there soon. As I was trying to leave, he got ahold of his electric bed adjuster thing, and was going to town inclining, declining, toes up, toes down...cracked me up. I love days like this.

Wednesday (Day 23)

Another major hurdle last night checked off the list. He swallowed on his own. This was a big concern after week one. His nurse gave him some ice chips, and according to my mom, he swallowed them right up. They also removed his IV that was still in his wrist as a precaution. It wasn't connected, but just in case they have left it on until last night. Hopefully soon we can get both his food tube and his catheter removed, as I am getting the impression that both of these are beginning to bother him. The more he becomes aware of everything around him and what is going on, the more he realizes something is going where it shouldn't be going. :)

He is trying to tell me something, and it is frustrating that I cannot "hear" him, or understand him. He is trying so hard to tell me, and I just feel helpless.

My Mom tells me he cried again yesterday. I can't begin to imagine the struggle he is enduring. Laying in that bed for hours on end, having everyone care for your personal affairs, wondering why your left side won't work. I am sure he feels scared, and alone. We assure him every night that he is not alone, and not to be frightened. That everything will come in time, that he needs to be strong, that he needs to believe. He gave me strength for so many years, and continues to do so...I consider this payback time.

Even in a bed restricted from speech, he teaches me. He teaches me love, humility, generosity, and to be a better man. 800 hits on this website?? He is loved by, and has touched more people than I had ever imagined. We all have said at one point in our lives that we 'will never be like out parents'. I can only wish I can be as good a man as him one day.

Tuesday (Day 22)

Yesterday evening was a pretty impressive showing. Matt, myself, and my Mom were all there to witness my Dad in what I thought was his best form yet. My Mom said his eyes had been wide open since she got there at 1:30pm...and honestly, I was falling asleep before he would last night. I kept dozing off sitting there in the dark with him, finally leaving at around 9pm.

He is becoming very aware of his surroundings now, attempting to talk more (and he is soooo close to telling me something), and even moving that left arm from time to time. His right arm is moving all over the place. He has lost about 15 pounds since this all started which is likely mostly due to loss of muscle mass. I wish I could put him in his own room. 'Harry', who resides just over the divider curtain, is an interesting fellow. He seems like a nice guy, but is hard of hearing, so as I am trying to get my Dad to close his eyes for the night...Harry starts yelling for the nurses, and the nurses then are forced to yell back. It's amusing for the first or second time. Harry is convinced the nurses are trying to kill him by making him "crap his pants every five minutes".

All and all...a very good day. His eyes are focusing again, and working together. He is working with the nurses a little better....though they continue to try to come in the morning...sigh. How many different ways can we say "Don't come in the morning"???

Still not a lot of movement out of that left leg.

He smiled at my mom yesterday as if he was seeing her for the first time in years.

Sunday (Day 20)

As I lay here in bed, on the eve of the 3rd week since this all began, I read some of the memories that friends have left in the comments pages.  I am reminded of so many wonderful times with my Dad, and thus encourage more of these comments.  If you have an awesome memory of him, please share it.  The comment section of this page was my mothers idea.  I am sure it pleases her to see the lives that have been touched by this man.  Many of you don't know what to say, or what you can do.   It is sometimes the simplest thought or gesture that can mean a smile on our faces, or a tear in our eyes (happy tears, of course).   The truth is, you know what you can do, but you find it "insignificant", as a friend of mine put it recently.  NOTHING IS INSIGNIFICANT.  If you can make my mother smile, I would owe you indefinitely...as would my father if he were reading this.

As far as this weekend goes, he is doing wonderfully.  He is beginning to move his neck around, checking out his surroundings and taking it all in.  My mom and I believe that he is concerned his left side is not functioning, and try to tell him not to worry about all that.  A good friend of his swung by today to give good thoughts, and check in.  He is a good man, and a good friend.   

My Dad's RN today was this little sassy old Filipina that has been trying to lift our spirits while visiting.  She clearly does not realize we have been sitting by his side for the last 3 weeks.  She tells us to talk to him, tell him about our days, etc, etc.  She even tried to tell us that when asked
how he feels today he said, "Oh hunny, I am doing just fine thank you." in her broken english.
THIS was the first time I had seen my mother laugh uncontrollably in three weeks.  We waited till this woman left, and had our laugh.  Next thing ya know he will be doing the Waltz with this woman while we are not looking.   Clearly they need to make another bed available....but her heart was in the right place.

We brought Jack in to see him, and he (Jack) was just a little too excited to see his friend again.
My Dad reached up to pet him, and had a very excited look on his face.   It was quite the treat.
My mom snapped the picure to the right so that you can see his progress.  Three weeks in, and almost all scars are healed, and his hair is soon to be thicker than my own.   A long road ahead still, but a good weekend overall.

Friday (Day 19)

I have added a web counter towards the lower right hand side of the page. I have been watching it today, and have seen it's number double today alone. I know this website it reaching people that do not know me, my family, or my father. You have found this website because you are either friends with or related to someone that has touched our lives, and vice versa. Welcome all of you, and thank you for stopping by.

My visit last night showed much of the same as the night before...but he had a little surprise waiting for me. Perhaps my mom, or one of my brothers got him into this, but now when I hold up a poker card, he holds up the corresponding number with his fingers. Being that he is still struggling to utilize his left side, this will only work up to five....but it is yet another new 'thing'.
He still smirks when I bust out those Kings.

I have read all the comments many of you are leaving, and the emails I have been receiving. I loooove how some of you leave your messages FOR John. He will read them someday soon...and he will have a great deal of catching up to do with all of you.

I called my parents house looking for my Mom, when the voicemail picked up. It was him, his voice anyway. I've been so focused on being strong for him and my mother...I hadn't realized how long it's been since the wet works have come out. His voice did it. I could have redialed all night to just hear that 10 second clip over and over again....

We are going to attempt to bring Jack (see pics) in to see him this weekend. I want to videotape his response to his other best friend....stay tuned, and thanks again.

Thursday (Day 18)

I cannot believe the circulation this website is getting. Thank you all. It is true, my father touched a lot of people. I read all these comments from family and friends, and everything is dead on. He is and always has been one of the kindest men I know....and among the many things I have learned from this experience, is that there are a whole lot of people in this world that could use some of that side of my father, including myself.

As you may have guessed by now, my posts reflect that of the previous day's events with my Dad. Yesterday we had a bit of both good and bad news. The facility that he is in, has in fact, released him as we feared they might. I am at a loss for words here....I really am.

The good news was that the nurses managed to get him out of the bed and into a wheelchair, heavily assisted by them of course, so that he could get a bath and a fresh shave. By the time I got there, he was resting, but soon opened those beautiful blue eyes to entertain me yet again. My father and I share a love of poker, so I thought I might try to bring in a deck of cards to see if he could recognize these cards and maybe call out their name. I wish I had videotaped this.

I started with a pair of Kings (also known as Cowboys), as this is his favorite two cards. He instantly smirked, and raised his hand towards me. I placed the two cards between his thumb and his index finger so that it looked like he was holding them in an actual game. He was glowing!!! I held up the Ace of Hearts, and asked if he knew what that was....he managed to get out the words "Aaaa o Hearrr". I about lost it laughing, and congratulating him, and he tweaked his smile one more time.

Then we put the cards away, and I held his hand firmly as I do from time to time. Kind of my way of 'feeding' him strength, I suppose. Our hands were wrapped as if to arm wrestle, and just out of curiosity, I began bouncing my thumb around his as if we were playing a thumb war....and he did not miss a beat!! His thumb slowly danced around as well, and when I slipped mine under his, he pinched down hard!! I told him, "Nice work DAD, you beat me!!!"

Again, a smile.

We watched some of the Olympics, and he fell back into his deep sleep.

Wednesday Day 17

My Dad's brother and his wife came to town to see him. He managed to show him all his tricks, and even squeezed out a smile. His hair is coming back in, his scars are almost fully healed, and if you didn't know any better you would say he is just sleeping. Amazing how powerful the mind is. I just want to say "Wake up!" sometimes. I worry that he is only showing his tricks and movements and speech for his family.

I was told to turn on the second showing of the Oprah show last night when I got home. It was so close to home, I couldn't believe it.

http://www.oprah.com/community/thread/85162

Up to Speed 8-12-08

Catching up to the present,

My Dad is now in the SNF, where they have begun to rehabilitate. I have been reminded, and have read myself that people with PD (Parkinson's Disease) take a little bit longer to rehab from something like this. His physical therapist has already stepped down, as his body is still in the coma. He/She will resume PT as soon as he begins to be more responsive in body. His eyes open wide now, and daily, for hours on end. He is taking everything in, listening, comprehending, and when it strikes the mood, trying to communicate. We have heard him say many things, names, responses, and of course "I luuuuuuuh", which is his response to my mother saying she loves him. His hand signals come without hesitation now...so fast that I need to come up with more material for him!! I can feel his strength when he squeezes my hand...I know he is fighting this...he just needs time.


He can wave to the nurses (what a charmer), and last night did something that would tear up the toughest sort. My mom went in to kiss him, as she routinely does, and I told her to put her cheek up there to see if he'd kiss back. Pops puckered up w/out hesitation. I am pretty sure it made her week, and I just giggled. She left, and I stayed with him for awhile just talking, listening to his breathing, playing with new hand gestures. Even the quietest of days can prove to be remarkable.

The doctors reminded my Mom that time is not on our side. If he doesn't start impressing them, we will be on our own both medically, and financially. What a system, our Healthcare. Sigh.

Week Two--Day Eight

The doctors have called for me and my brothers to meet them this afternoon for a meeting. No doubt, for some bad news. My mom knows, but she wanted us to hear it from them. Last night, I walked her to her car, and we talked for what seemed like forever. She hinted to what the doctors were going to tell me, as she knows I am very upset right now. Not that most of the medical staff has not been very compassionate. In fact, all the nurses hug her, cry with her....the anesthesiologist came into the room on Wednesday, and didn't even have the words. He looked at my mom, and broke down in tears. A grown man, working in a hospital...in tears. You can see why I'm upset.

It was this meeting where the doctors raised concern of the likelihood that my father will ever walk again. The entire meeting was blurry to me, as I was so full of anger and rage. I wanted to put my hand through a wall. I don't want to hear their opinions...because in the end, that is all they are. One of my friends put it best, 'doctors are like the weatherman...they will give you their thoughts on the facts placed before them, but cannot predict the future.' Here, in the NW, the weather changes quite often. All I heard in that meeting was three words,

"Nothing is impossible."

Days Four thru Seven...

Thursday morning, my mom called to say he had opened his eyes wide for her, moved some toes, fingers, etc....all of which were very good signs. He impressed all the doctors, and gave us all some new found hope.

Friday was not so good, but the doctors told us there would be plenty of ups and downs. They had to put the oxygen back in his nose, as his saturation level was dropping.

This weekend saw a lot of success all across the board. He is back on his own breathing, he is beginning to get some words out. Saturday was the most touching, when my mom went to go home and leaned over to give him a kiss, and said "I love you". He replied back with a very good attempt, that sounded much like and "I love you"...my mom's water works were in full affect.

Sunday morning he was crying. Not like he did with me on Wednesday....this was a full blown cry. His nurse, who has been amazing, totally lost it, as did my mom. They are convinced this was due to his bowel movement...the first all week. I mean, nobody likes to poop the bed...I would cry too....but, it needed to be done...and the rest of the day saw much improvements. His eyes were half opened for most of the day....and they finally moved him out of the ICU to the top floor where he has an amazing view now. Today he is scheduled for another surgery that will insert a tube directly into his stomach, since he was being fed through a tube in his nose...and he did not like it. He has had a nasty case of the hiccups which is no doubt producing some acid reflux...as he moans loudly during these occurances. They believe this surgery will reduce that, and they can completely remove all tubes from his upper body....which will be awesome.

Day Three

Wednesday night, I stayed by his side as late as I could...waiting for a sign. They had taken him off oxygen and he was breathing...well, snoring actually, all on his own. He could grip my hand when I spoke to him, so I knew he was listening...but no noise, no eyes, nothing. Later that evening, I looked up and caught a glimpse of his eyes...about as much as you could see if someone was squinting at you....but I could see them, and with tears in my own eyes, I said "Hey Sunshine! How ya doin??" A tear rolled out of his left eye, and I lost it.

I told him that I wish I could take this from him, and trade him spots....and his right hand (which had not seen much movement) lifted up off his belly and across his left side to me...as if to touch my face. I met him half way, and whispered "I know Dad, I love you too". It was an amazing night. I found new energy and stayed with him till his eyes shut again and he went back into a deep sleep. I asked him before his went to sleep to try and show my mom some good signs the next morning.

Day One

It was Monday morning the 28th of July that my father went in for a procedure that he felt would remarkably improve the rest of his living years. He told me not to worry, and that by noon on Monday, the first phase of the procedure would be complete….but I did worry. Then, around 10:30 that morning, my mother called me to tell me all lights were green! The doctors claimed it couldn’t have gone any smoother. I looked to the sky with tears in my eyes, and whispered the words “Thank you”. I was ecstatic, and quickly sent word that the worst is over. Phase two was a walk in the park, and would hardly be anything to worry about. I was overjoyed, and full of anticipation to finish my work and rush to the hospital. Then, at around 2:00pm, my anticipation and excitement was shattered with confusion, fear, and anger as my brother called me…

“Hey man, there has been a complication…you better get up here right away”

I dropped everything and rushed to the hospital where I found my mom, two of her sisters, and my brothers in the surgery waiting area. The look on my mom floored me, and I could see that this is no small complication. Apparently, a blood clot had formed in the left side of his brain, about the size of a baseball. They claim that when inserting one of the electrodes into his brain, they grazed a blood vessel and a slow leak had started. They rushed him back into surgery where they were able to remove 89% of this clot. The rest, they claimed, would be absorbed by the body and be of no threat.

He was placed in ICU where all we could do was wait. He had more tubes and wires coming in and out of him than I would ever want to see again. Initially, his oxygen was being fed to him, as was his food, through various tubes. Day by day, the doctors removed a little bit at a time, until all he was left with was his feeding tube surgically installed directly into his stomach. A CT Scan revealed that some of the blood had leaked into the third and fourth ventricles surrounding his brain stem. This temporarily prohibited him from opening his eyes and/or speaking.

His family was constantly by his side, waiting for a sign. The damage to the left side of his brain had temporarily paralyzed the left side of his body. Though unable to open his eyes or speak, he was able to acknowledge us by squeezing his right hand. Day by day, he began to come out of his coma. We were starting from scratch, and every new triumph, no matter how big or small, were an emotional moment. As he grew stronger, so did our family. His courage to take on such a procedure has brought this family closer than we have been in decades. Everyday sees more and more improvement, yet after a meeting a week after the surgery, the doctors claim that if he has not shown significant signs of improvement in the next three months, we will have to make a decision. (I.e. stop feeding him) They have since moved him out of ICU, into a SNF (Skilled Nurses Facility), where his healing goes into high gear. It is here that he has a speech therapist, a physical therapist, and several other skilled specialists to get him up and running.

My father is strong, and I believe in my heart that he is trying like hell to get back to his wife and family…and I know he can do this in the three months time. But, as if we haven’t had enough bad news, he may not be allowed that time. The conditions of his Medicare plan say that he is only covered for two months at the SNF, AND if he is not making ‘significant improvements’, the SNF has to de-certify him from Medicare. Without Medicare, he would be moved upstairs of this facility to their nursing home, where he would be cared for, but no specialists…and only time will tell. The long term care unit would be out of our own pocket at a cost of around $7000 per month.

I spend my hours with my father talking, showing him hand signals, working on his words…basically starting from scratch. He responds to hand signals and words almost without hesitation. He smiled for me last night, and stuck his tongue out at me when asked to do so. His grip with this right hand is so strong now; I know he is telling me he can do this. My father loves his family so much. He took a risk for the benefit of all of us, and is fighting to come back FOR us. I have never witnessed a love like he and my mom share. He is only 66, and knows he has several more years of loving her to go.