I wrote below about my Dad's surgery. It was a complete esophagectomy to remove a number of pre-cancerous growths that resulted from years of acid reflux. The initial surgery itself went very well. He was even up and walking around a very little bit.
When my Mom got to the hospital to see him yesterday, things had changed. During the night he had trouble breathing, and that morning they took him into surgery to drain the fluid off of his lungs. It happened so fast that there wasn't time to call the family. The pneumonia turned to sepsis and that infection sent his body into shock. The last thirty-six hours have been a fight to keep his blood pressure up and bring his fever down while a machine takes over the burden of breathing. In the meantime, Mom, sister, brother and I are just waiting. Getting Mom away from the hospital has been tough, she and I slept in the waiting room last night. I'll be sleeping with an ear open for the phone to ring while praying it won't.
I suppose that part of growing up is coming to grips with mortality, your own and that of loved ones. I can't count the number of times my Dad tended my wounds, and believe me, there were a lot of them. If less than all of them had happened away from home, we would have had Children's Services going over our lives with a microscope. A few of those times included stays in the hospital. All of those times Dad was in the chair next to the bed all night, reassuring me that everything would be all right. This time is my turn. I can't tell if he can hear me, but I say them anyway. My Mom is more scared than I've ever seen her. Thank God that we have each other because we have been taking turns comforting one another.
Those of you who pray, please remember my father, Winston L. "Larry" Wade. On behalf of the rest of the family, I thank you.
Winston E. "Ted" Wade