My dad was one of my underlying reasons for taking up running in the last year. It was a crazy health year for him, from a quadruple bypass in April 2012, complications to that through May 2012, and then being diagnosed with liver cancer in October 2012. After that, things started to move (relatively) quickly. Although, nothing can ever be fast enough for the patient and the family that just want answer. Running was my answer to find that “me” time, and it was something I could control.
Amazingly, within 8 months, he had the liver cancer confirmed, undergone the entire battery of testing needed to get on a transplant list, had two rounds of localized chemo, and he got his new liver! While it didn’t go as quickly as we would’ve like, it was amazingly fast in the world of transplant medicine. June 15th will be Dad’s second birthday.
We are all so happy. The liver cancer is gone. It wasn’t the horrible, agonizing wait that many other families face, watching their loved ones go through agonizing pain until that oh so lucky day. We have been so blessed throughout this entire experience.
Then Dad fell last weekend. We still don’t know why or how, but they were just now able to do the MRI today to check for any signs of stroke, seizure, or brain bleeds. He knocked out a tooth and a bridge in the process of hitting his head on the counter, and they had to, um, wait until they found it. (There is still some debate as to whether searching for the bridge is part of your marriage vows. That may be another post. 😉 )
Mom and Dad left the hospital around 6 and were called to come back to the ER by 6:30. He’s been admitted tonight to ICU where they will keep an eye on him throughout the night and test for signs of stroke. They’ll redo the MRI tomorrow morning and then decide on course of action from there.
I don’t want to think about having gone through all of this just to lose Dad to a stroke. (Which I know rationally he’s in the best place if something were to happen, and there’s nothing I could do even if I were there. I never claimed to be rational in this post!) He’s not allowed to do that. But, seeing as it’s currently 10:30 pm, the gym is closed, and it’s pitch black outside, I don’t currently have the ability to run to save my sanity. So I write. Thank you for being part of my sanity. At least until I can get out and run tomorrow.
Which I will then promptly come back and tell you all about. 🙂