Dad is Home

Over a month has slipped by since I last posted. That last post left me drained and gave me much to think about. I expected Violet to post about this same topic, and she is still promising to do so, but I don’t even know how she gets done what she does, never mind find time to write.

I’m not quite sure how an entire month has evaporated, but then again, I can’t believe I have already clocked 42 years on the beautiful earth. Yes, that is correct, today is my Birthday. Forty-Two years ago today, on what was Easter Sunday that year, I came into the world.

If you are one of Kelly’s readers, than you know what I’ve been up to these last few weeks. My dad has been in the hospital. He is back home now, but it only through great effort on everyone’s part. He is doing wonderfully and is stronger than he has been in a long time. It’s making me very happy to see him this way, although we have to keep reminding him not to be reckless, a fall is the last thing we want.

I did not sleep well while all of this was happening. Having spent time in the hospital myself, I have always had a slight feeling of abandonment once all the visitors were gone for the night. This is likely due to the fact that I am not mobile and have to rely on someone else for all of my needs while stuck in a hospital bed. When my loved ones are gone, I really had to fight the anxiety. This last time, my blackberry was my saviour. It gave me an instant connection to friends and loved ones and allowed me to escape without leaving the bed.

And so every night, when I left my dads bedside, I was in tears. I calmed myself  by reasoning that I was projecting my anxiety onto him. That just because I felt that way didn’t mean that he did too. But then after about a week, as we were leaving one night, my dad struggled to get the words out. When he was able to make himself understood, I realized he was saying “don’t forget me here, I want to come home”. I fought back the tears, smiled and reassured him.

And we did bring him home on Monday. Kelly has been an absolute angel. It’s a blessing that both of us are not working at the moment. We each have time to spend tending to my fathers needs. Whether that be hands on care as in Kelly’s case, or planning, scheduling, phone calls and other logistics by me. All things that would be darn near impossible if we were both working.

While he was in hospital, I slept with my Blackberry turned on and by my pillow. It’s the number the hospital was to call in case of an emergency. It’s also the number I had posted on a sticky note by my dads bed should he feel the need to ask a nurse to call us.  As I said I did not sleep well, despite being exhausted. And once I woke up, nagging thoughts would not let me drift off again.

I also had many strange dreams during that period. On of them has really stuck with me. Kelly and I were at some sort of outdoor festival. It was late evening and quite dark out. Strings of white bulbs provided light for the event, but the rain had dampened spirits. The rain was getting worse, and crowds were moving towards what I suspect was a covered area. As we moved through the property, the grass was getting more and more muddy and I had to choose my path carefully so my wheelchair wouldn’t get bogged down. I was moving slower than the others, and avoiding the most traveled areas. We came to a narrow section that was fenced off on either side. People were being careful not to fall into several very deep (bottomless?) open pits.  These pits were square openings, with slippery muddy edges, and were lined up in a row, with perhaps 4 or 5 feet between them. The path on the left was wide, but more traveled and more muddy. I decided to pass the pits on the right instead. I suddenly realized that all of this was downhill, and that the slippery mud would make it impossible to change my mind. I could not go back. As I went past the first few pits, I noticed that the space between the fence and the pits was getting progressively narrower. At that point Kelly, who was quite a bit farther ahead, turned back to see where I was. Her expression turned to one of fear. Why did I choose that side she yelled. I told her not to worry, I was still confident. I knew the path on the right was getting too narrow, but I decided to make a sharp turn, squeeze between two pits, and move back over to the left path. I misjudged. The section between the pits was far too narrow and I started to slip into one of deep muddy pits. Kelly ran back to help along with two or three men that saw what was happening. They grabbed the front of my chair and tried to pull me out, but I was slipping backwards. It was over, they couldn’t hold on, I was about to fall to my death. Then, suddenly, I wasn’t. Someone had a hold of the back of my chair. It was my dad. I couldn’t see him, but I knew it was him. Singlehandedly, he lifted me to safety. The others were in awe. Kelly told them it was my dad, and they couldn’t believe it. How could a man his age have the strength to do what four of them couldn’t. I never saw my dad. I just felt his presence, he lifted me to safety and left before I could say thank you. He was there to help me after I had made a stupid choice. He was there to save me when the others could not. He was the reason I was still alive. And I didn’t get to say thank you.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure THAT dream out. My dad has always been there for me. And he has, in fact, saved my life. I’m not sure if I blogged about that one or not. The dream was a solid reminder of how much my dad means to me, and that it’s my turn to advocate for him.